Mission Impossible
by Callisto5
Summary: Jarod, a mission, the Centre, some evil goings on...etc
1. The recording

**Disclaimer**: _The following story is based on characters from the Pretender series. No copyright infringement is meant and no money is being made._

**_Author's not_**e: _ It's been awhile since I've last posted. And I've been writing this story since I finished the last one. Rest assured, this story isn't a continuation of Time to Consider—which turned out to be much longer than I had originally intended. This story is something new, a bit of a cross-over as the title suggests (though the characters from Mission Impossible are drawn from the story format, they are mostly from my imagination). Also, note that as the title suggests I am using that show's format and premise as well however, I am using the** TV format** of a group endeavor rather than what the movies suggests, IMHO, is essentially an Americanized version of James Bond. I hope that everyone who does me the honor of reading it truly enjoys it!_

___****__Mission Impossible_  
(Well…maybe not for me)

___****__****__**The Centre  
Blue Cove, DE**_

The meeting was as impromptu as it was unwelcome. First the Triumvirate's golden boy, who invested his very life and reputation on the project, entered pleading his case and complaining bitterly about the doctor assigned to verify his results. The second man entered the Chairman's office while the first was in full tirade. He wore an irritated expression which quickly changed to disdainful loathing when he spotted the "golden boy" already standing in front of the large desk. Raines had invested a great deal of his own reputation and a depressingly large amount of dwindling favors to see this thing through. Surprisingly, he was still being met with insistent dissenting pressure from those within the corporation. The truly depressing part was his own growing skepticism. Too much was riding on the success of an unproven therapy. For him, this whole situation was a lot like placing the last of your rent money on a racetrack long-shot.

The room wasn't particularly cheerful but held a discretely expensive odor of wealth and power—probably a hold over from Mr. Parker's days. However, considering the dour personage sitting with the windows to his back, cheerful would never be the first word on any visitor's mind. Standing before the Chairman's desk, the second visitor took in the chairman's measure wondering why the success of this particular project had grown to be so important. Normally, questionable medical ethics didn't bother him. It was an accepted belief that medical research was the bedrock upon which most of today's cures were based. Research was one thing, useless waste was another. Witnessing the tearful testimonials given by the bereaved while helping at his father's mortuary taught him that lesson. This current medical experiment was a perfect example of such misuse. It was too reckless, too experimental and had suffered too many horrific setbacks that even his extremely small sense of morality had been hit in the bulls-eye by such wasteful extravagance. More was needed on every level of the scientific method before anyone should even start to contemplate any sort of live trials. Yet here they were behaving like depraved children trying some lethal cocktail on unsuspecting victims and waiting eagerly to see what the effects would be. Squandering subjects because you could was beyond ridiculous; it undermined the validity of the scientific method and drastically, if prematurely reduced the pool of potential guinea pigs. The principal subject of this experiment also made him raise an eyebrow. In Dr. Cox's view, if something wasn't broke, why bother fixing it?

Raines was a heavy man, both psychologically as well as physically. However despite the muted lighting, the outside sunlight shined gently on his bald dome but did nothing to soften his corruptly desiccated features. His cold eyes slid towards the first doctor as a sign to continue his report.

"Project Revival has commenced. We've checked and rechecked the research to insure the correct dosages have been administered. There's nothing to worry about, everything is going smoothly," Dr. Thackary reported with firm confidence.

"Is that what you told the last victim you had in this country? I think she would strenuously disagree," Cox stated with heavy sarcasm.

"That incident taught me a great deal. What occurred was unfortunate but great strides have been made since then," the other argued dismissively.

"I'm sure the cancer patient you so-called "cured" would wonder how many strides you made before her particular debacle. Using an unproven therapy, assisted by a cocktail of drugs never dreamed of by the FDA, much less your fellow geneticists and whose side-effects converted your straight-laced patient into a free-lancing gang whore would make a very interesting counter-indication in the TV ad." Cox leaned to one side and holding his hands up like brackets to emphasize his point, he continued, " 'And for women—don't take at all if you have any illusions of keeping your legs closed for several seconds, could induce spontaneous bouts of nymphomania. Men, dump the Viagra you're on your way to becoming a serial rapist.'"

"Doctor, you sound as insensibly maudlin as my former colleagues. I was told that the Centre employed more forward thinking and innovative-minded staff. I was obviously misinformed."

"Gentlemen, this is all a moot point since the therapy has already begun. How has stage 1 progressed so far?" Raines interrupted impatiently.

"Yes, well a mild anesthetic was released into the office, giving us free access to the subject for the early round of injections. I've revised my initial estimates and believe the soonest we'll have any preliminary results is several days. Once the results have been verified, we'll press ahead with Phase two of the therapy. It's important to immediately follow up with Phase 2 at this point or the treatment's efficacy will be adversely affected. The only risk will be in sedating the subject at least three more times."

"I want Dr. Cox to closely monitor this project from start to finish. If you can convince an entrenched skeptic like him then there will be no question as to the validity of your technique. Still, some of the side-effects are unsettling to say the least and the repercussions will be devastating if this project backfires on us."

"So far the treatment is proceeding according to schedule," the doctor said confidently. "Having my work double-checked by a certified OB/GYN is extremely insulting. He's not a geneticist. It takes years to understand and appreciate the minute details and exacting procedures I've spent most of my life perfecting," Dr. Thackery stated casting Cox a disparaging glance.

Raines had heard these same arguments from both men ad nauseum. "Dr. Cox has proven to be very…versatile. I'm confident he will have no trouble keeping up with you on the science. He has nothing to prove here whereas you do. Explain to us exactly how did you get the therapy to work?"

Repressing any outward signs of impatience or irritation, Thackery gave a brief summary of the procedure. "Once the project scope was explained along with the desired results, we realized early on that my gene therapy would be the best way to go. According to our models, the subject is a perfect candidate. Once sedated, we began the therapy with a microinduction of carefully prepared serum. This will be a two-pronged approach. First, we started with a micro-induction using liposomes coated in PEG, and then the more conventional viral vector will follow. The second shouldn't produce any immediate effects—not until an additional exposure. The first method should give us an early indicator of its effectiveness.

"As I've said before, I would've preferred employing the liposomes alone. I'm certain it would be not only effective but safer for the subject, however, I can definitely understand the efficacy of the failsafe."

"It's no wonder our bosses in Africa wanted a failsafe—given your spotless record. Have you ever had an unqualified success using this therapy? Without all the colorful side-effects?"

"The science has been checked and double-checked. What we're doing here is a little off topic for the procedure but should be as effective as it is in curing cancer. The main hurdle is that in dealing with cancer or a physical ailment, there are measurable results—here I'm a bit uncertain. As outlined in my original proposal, the side-effects have been mostly negated by making a few key adjustments. I was told that you have some way of verifying the results but I haven't been told how exactly."

Both Raines and Cox silently listened to the scientist's obfuscation. It was a simple, straightforward question. Even Raines' forehead wrinkled at the non-answer. Thackary stared at them with polite defiance because their objections and fears didn't matter. This experiment was a Triumvirate directive and there was no way around it.

"That's why I'm here—to see if there are any results," Cox responded heavily. "Before we get ahead of ourselves, I'll need your help to draw up a series of benchmarks designed to measure your progress. I'm sure there are a bevy of symptoms that should serve us well. And we definitely want to make sure the subject is fully prepared before entering phase 3."

Refusing to acknowledge his skeptical colleague, Thackery continued, "This is an extremely sensitive project. Neither he nor I should have any unnecessary contact with the subjects. If they should become aware of what we are doing then any objective observation would become pointless."

Cox whipped his eyes in the direction of Thackery and narrowed his focus unhappily. Something new had been added to the mix. "I completely agree. Keeping a high level of confidentiality would be wise after all, the subject is no fool and we already know what the results are on a bible-thumping, dumb bunny, now don't we, doctor?" The tone Cox used suggested that he was only humoring the other in using the title.

"At least there's something you two agree on. That will be all Dr. Thackery. Please keep me updated on your progress," Raines commanded coolly.

Thackery understood the unsubtle order for him to leave, which he did thankfully. Though the Chairman on the surface seemed on-board with the project, he too often allowed Cox's narrow thinking and skepticism to sway him. In his weekly report, Thackery planned to advise his Triumvirate contact of this useless but growing resistance—that ought to shut them up once and for all.

Cox waited for the heavy door to close behind a man he felt was no better than a snake oil salesman and a bad one at that. He allowed a carefully polite pause to pass before asking the loaded question, "Sir, excuse me but did I hear him correctly? Did he just say subjects?"

* * *

___****__****__**Californian coast**_

The waves pounded majestically against the rocks and sand. Staring out at the surrounding area, the view was breathtaking. With a calculated pause, the slender, dark-haired man nodded to himself and walked back up the hill and towards the main boulevard. Soon he was inside an overly stylish fitness center. No one glanced at him twice as he walked through. His clothes, bearing and sureness of movement ensured that no one would find him either overly interesting or approachable. The quiet emptiness of the men's dressing room greeted him as he glanced around to make sure no one had followed him. Drawing a key out of his pocket, he strolled past four cubicle sets of identically designed lockers until he reached the last U-shaped row with its low continuous wooden bench. The key fit unerringly in one of the top tier of lockers and there he found it full of clothing. He removed an ultra-slim cell phone that was nestled inside an interior breast pocket of a brand name suit. Casually exiting, he returned to the beach, removed the cell phone's battery—memorizing the 10-digit number inscribed on the underside, inserted a sim card and reassembled the phone. Using a heavily encrypted Bluetooth earphone and dialing the number provided, he then accessed the phone's photo gallery, displayed the first picture and settled in to listen.

"Good morning, Mr. Thorne. This is Dr. Floyd Thackary, an extremely talented scientist whose early successes in the field of gene therapy research exposed a lack of moral ethics that urged him to push beyond the restraints of his Hippocratic Oath and the law. Formally employed by a prestigious university's research hospital, his breakthrough discoveries were permanently tarnished by horrific and unauthorized human experimentation which resulted in devastating side-effects that permanently scarred and in some cases killed his patients. He fled the country one step ahead of several federal indictments.

"Thackery has obtained an unlikely sponsor, a Mr. William Raines, who is the current chairman of a protected corporation called the Centre; a research and development concern that has assisted this government on numerous occasions and in a variety of capacities. We are aware that the Chairman has managed to smuggle Dr. Thackery back into this country and is providing him sanctuary, thus abusing our non-interference agreement.

"Dr. Thackery is currently employed by a shadowy West African consortium called the Triumvirate. This Triumvirate is financially backing the doctor's research and has no regard for the cost in human lives and suffering that the doctor's incessant experimentation demands. This consortium also exerts an unusual hold on the Centre that continues to encroach on the government's relationship with the corporation.

"Your mission, Jarod, should you decide to accept it, is to obtain proof of Dr. Thackery's current unauthorized human experimentation. Discredit his research and physically deliver him to the federal authorities.

"As always, should any of your IM force be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions. This number will deactivate and the files will be erased as soon as you disconnect. Good luck, Jarod."

___****__****__**Team 4 Headquarters**_  
**_Dearborn, MI _**

They were on the 6th floor of a non-descript brick-faced industrial building, located deep within the business district. Inside, the southwest facing offices were furnished in modern chic. Every aspect of the 'conference room' gave the impression of an upscale living room instead of what it actually was—an operations briefing room. Gathered in the comfortable, almost plush setting were 4 people. Each member of the group had a particular field of expertise and all held advanced degrees including one PhD. They waited in subdued silence for Control to show up with their newest assignment. Unbeknownst to the group, this mission was going to be a very different. One member of the group had received additional, confidential orders from their bosses, bypassing Control, which was highly unusual.

"I think so much planning went into the Montenegro Op that all the fun was taken out of it."

"What exactly do you mean by fun?" the lone woman in the group asked with raised eyebrows.

"Some spontaneity, an element of danger, a call for improvisation, you know what I mean, even my damn radio worked and you know how rarely that happens," Geoff answered with a slight smile. He was only half joking. Their last Control was the master of the dropped ball, the missed detail. It was a testament to their unit's ability and individual skills that none of them had died as a result. Fortunately their current Control didn't have that particular weakness.

"Haven't you ever heard of the old saying, 'Be careful of what you wish for—you just might get it'?" the engineer of the unit inquired with suave humor. He knew Geoff's argument was his way of voicing approval for their current Control.

"Barney, I think Geoff needs to spend a little more time behind the scenes. A lot of hard work went into making sure that Op went off without a hitch. It's only because Bucharest was such a huge success that we've been put into play so often. Frankly, a vacation should be in order after this assignment," Jonas said languidly as he stretched his well-honed physique along the couch, slyly enjoying the woman's admiration of him.

The woman openly appreciated the view Jonas provided her. "Well, I'm sure our fearless leader will keep things interesting. But I have to partially agree with Geoff, a little more action would be welcome. As Shakespeare once wrote, "the best laid plans of mice and men, often go astray." A little adlibbing is always good for the soul."

"If it's action that you want, then this assignment ought to satisfy everyone's craving."

Making his entrance, the covert group's Control strolled into the room and looked at each member of his team. He would need to tap into their skills more than he had ever before. He sensed their trusting eyes on him and felt well rewarded. He had worked very hard to earn that trust and with such a talented group the earning had been very tricky. They were very much like him, pretenders in their own right, perhaps not as thoroughly trained as he, but pretenders just the same working to right some of the wrongs perpetrated by the few on the unsuspecting many. He smiled tightly as he thought about exposing them to the worst of worst when it came to villains.


	2. Updates and Introductions

**Disclaimer**: Please Chapter 1 for the formalities

**Mission Impossible**

**(Chapter 2 – The Team)**

**__****The Centre  
Technical Operations  
Blue Cove, DE**

Broots had become engrossed in applying the latest update to his 'sniffer' program for use by the Centre's security division in order to help track any incursion into the vast network clusters of system server arrays. Since Jarod's disappearance, there hadn't been any successful incidents or attacks against the Centre's numerous data annexes, warehouses, or SANs. All had been quiet for the past two years which served to promote the idea that Jarod had finally found what he was looking for—his family and had gone to ground permanently.

Change in the Centre was slow but when faced with the inevitable, they had no choice but to order a few significant reassignments. Raines' intent was to keep his dead brother's closest allies firmly entrenched within the Centre, too busy to plan any coups or escapes and on tightly controlled leashes.

Sydney remained in charge of the cognitive research labs but had been assigned the task of directing the large team of psychiatrists, psychologists and counselors assigned to the various departments and on the numerous projects being conducted by the corporation. Most recently, Sydney had the added responsibility of heading the Centre's multi-national psychiatric division.

The always scary Mr. Lyle had been rewarded for his malleable loyalties by being placed in charge of internal Centre operations which made him the Tower's number 2 man next to the director. Mr. Cox, who in Broots' mind was just as scary as Lyle, was placed in charge of medical research, which included the Renewal Wing and general physician services.

And most remarkable, Miss Parker had been placed once again in charge of Centre Security. This time her responsibilities were worldwide and more widespread, than when her 'father' had been Chairman. Perhaps the current chairman never thought she truly deserved it or could really handle the position and set her up to fail. Some in the higher echelons whispered that Raines was trying to prove his claim to Parker's paternity by assigning her such a lofty position. Either way, Mr. Raines' patience was sorely tested when Parker easily rose to the challenge and slowly implemented a number of sweeping changes and inventive ideas in Security while maintaining her barely civil attitude towards the Chairman. Her years of chasing Jarod and facing many a humiliating security breach at his hands on both a technological and physical level had taught her much. Therefore her innovations proved to be so insightful that Lyle was able to shop them out for a hefty fee to a few of the Centre's more security conscious clients. Unfortunately for him, his twin was less than forthcoming, so her presence at the client meetings had become as necessary as it was expected. This handicap further irritated the sociopath when each client who brought the logical and physical security designs (computer security and building ingress and egress controls) was notified of any significant updates; they contacted Parker directly, neatly bypassing her brother who had introduced them in the first place. The credit for the original sale was given to Parker instead of Lyle. Money rich updates and client specific security solutions therefore went through her and the credit for further fattening the Centre's coffers was also attributed to her. It was on one of those forthcoming updates that Broots found himself busily at work.

At first Broots thought without the nuisance of chasing Jarod from pillar to post, and discovering horrific details about her family's past that Miss Parker had finally changed. She was nicer to him and insisted that he share in all the accolades that went along with bringing in a huge and continuing infusion of cash into the Centre's depleted accounts. When he mentioned her change in attitude, Sydney smiled vaguely but Broots could tell that the old boy didn't agree. It took some time but eventually Broots came to understand Sydney's reaction. It wasn't so much that she had changed but that during their years of hunting for Jarod and searching for her mother's killer that he had come to know her better. After six years of roving the country, lusting after her and seeing her at her lowest—Broots finally got it. Parker had placed him deep in the brother zone and there was no way out. One thing that hadn't changed in Parker was the ever present sadness in her eyes. If anything, it deepened and seemed more ingrained than ever before. Still there were moments when he was witness to Parker's typical arguments with her twin that he couldn't help but smirk. His epiphany didn't stop with Parker but in observing Lyle more closely, the tech could see the sickening attraction the sociopath harbored for his twin sister. In response, Broots developed a facility and habit of warding off Lyle whenever possible, to insulate Parker from the slimy guy. Sydney saw what he was doing and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Self-conscious of his witnessed gallantry, Broots replied to Sydney's tacit question. "Well, I can't help it. She keeps treating me like a brother, I start acting like one. I know, pathetic."

Sydney nodded in his delight at Broots' perception and said smilingly, "You're trying to protect her. That's very noble of you but I think Parker can take care of herself when it comes to her twin."

"I don't like the way he looks at her. Everyday that guy finds a new way to give me the creeps," Broots replied in a lower voice.

"I know what you mean. Just be careful, he's very powerful around here."

That exchange had occurred several weeks ago with each man promising to have lunch. Now two months later, Sydney showed up in Broots' corner of the Centre to make good on his promise. Like most of the high security areas within the Centre, the Technical Systems division was mutely lit and encased in concrete walls painted in the Centre's typical dark grey. When he first laid eyes on the tech's new work area, Sydney was immediately impressed. Miss Parker had indeed been generous with him. Broots was inside a spacious, glass-fronted office that sported an expansive desk with 4 of the newest and no doubt extremely powerful computers tucked underneath and accompanied by 2 large flat screen monitors that sat in front of the tech. Numerous technical books lined one wall with a very stylish art-deco print dominating the second and a huge plasma monitor the last. A technical schematic periodically interchanged with scrolling code on the large screen.

"Very impressive, Broots. How does it feel being Assistant Director of Technology Operations?"

"Busy, Sydney. Very busy," he replied distractedly. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually, there is something I want to discuss with you. How about giving yourself a break and going out to that lunch we keep threatening each other with?"

"Well, I told Miss Parker that I would be done with this by the end of the week…"

"From the uncertainty in your voice, it doesn't sound like you will be."

"I've hit a snag in the program…" Broots replied and then launched into some highly technical jargon that Sydney could only partially follow.

"It sounds to me like you need a break. Afterwards you can come back here with a fresh perspective and a full belly." At Broots' reluctance, Sydney continued, "Doctor's orders, come on. And if Parker gives you a hard time, tell her I'll be by to drag her out of the office as well." Both men enjoyed a hearty laugh with each imagining the look on Parker's face if she heard that one.

**__****Team 4 Headquarters  
Dearborn, MI**

Jarod glanced at each member of his team before strolling to the far end of the room and pulling out a large glass storyboard. As he began affixing pictures on it, he mentally reviewed their resumes.

Geoffrey Hand – The man of a thousand faces. He could completely alter his appearance as well as his voice to closely match whoever he was impersonating. An accomplished make-up artist, and a genius with foam latex face molds, he could make a mannequin look so realistic that often targets were fooled into thinking that the mannequin was the person it was made out to be—to their peril. A well-trained and versatile field operative, his specialty was deep undercover and infiltration.

Barney Collins – A man who couldn't make up his mind. He held degrees in electrical engineering and mechanical engineering. The man was clearly a genius but didn't like being called the 'g' word. If anything needed to be blown up, rigged up, bugged or built, he was the one to do it. There wasn't a person on the team whose life he hadn't saved using one of his gizmos.

Modesty Lawrence – As beautiful as she was talented her specialty was reading people. Her formal training began after earning a degree in criminal psychology and a two year internship at a state institution for the criminally insane before being recruited. As a criminal profiler her talents seemed limitless. So far every one of her profiles had proven to be accurate down to the smallest detail. It was those predictive details that had warned of particular behaviors which often exposed Unsubs and saved Geoff's life numerous times. She was also a deep undercover operative.

Jonas Travallian – A chemical engineer with eclectic interests in structural engineering and computer science. He was able to concoct many of the potions and pills the team needed and provided much needed pharmaceutical support for the numerous designer drugs the team often came across during their assignments. He was Barney's technical back-up man when needed. Probably because of his early, scrawny, geekiness, he spent considerable time and effort on his physical prowess. He was large, well-muscled and very strong. His physical ability in the various martial arts and hand-to-hand combat was unmatched on the team. Only Jarod could best him in the martial arts and not by much.

Jarod was also aware that Jonas and Modesty were engaged in a rather steamy relationship. When he was first assigned as their team lead, the couple was very careful to conceal their feelings. But Jarod was an exceptional profiler in his own right and saw the small tell-tell signs of an on-going love affair. Instead of confronting the couple, Jarod asked the other two, Geoff and Barney about it. Reluctantly and after having assured them that he already knew something was up, they confessed to knowing about the affair. The only surprise was that it had been going on for so long. Almost 5 years and the two were still devoted to each other. They didn't dare get married for fear the agency would force them apart.

While Jarod was preoccupied with his team and the assignment ahead, Modesty was busy appreciating the view Jarod was inadvertently giving her. Jonas wasn't worried in the least but he did follow her line of sight. The look in her eye told him that Jarod was being reevaluated—she was adjusting her opinions in order to get a better handle on their Control. In her private opinion, the guy was wound way too tight and his masked expression, which indicated an innate loneliness, puzzled her. So far, Jarod had been the only one to leave her partially stumped. When she mentioned this to him, Control smiled almost sadly at her and replied, "I'm not a good challenge. You would do better using your talents on someone else." His comment instead of seeming arrogant was more wistful than boastful and gave her the impression of a man with a crushing load of guilt restricting his spirit.

In Modesty's opinion, Jarod was brilliant; mentally on a genius level that she felt sure eclipsed even Barney's. Barney's technical explanations never left Jarod with a wrinkled brow. On their first group assignment, Barney pulled his techo-jargon out for a spin. Jarod immediately answered him using similar jargon and then asked a highly technical follow-up question that made Barney smile with true appreciation. The two became great friends instantly. From that and various other clues, she surmised that Jarod had been raised by an extremely intelligent but demandingly controlling European nanny or school master. His manners were perfect, even elegant when he was unaware of them—which wasn't often. The guy seemed to cherish being in constant control of all his mannerisms, even those which most people seemed unaware they had. On top of it, he was aware of his physical attractiveness but perversely, he seemed completely unaffected by the reactions of others to him. Despite or perhaps because of this personal control and curious loneliness, he had the air of a man on the edge of discovery. Whatever he was looking for, Modesty had the feeling it would eventually find him.


	3. The Assignment

**Disclaimer: **Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statements.  
**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay. Life has a way of interrupting….

**Mission  
Impossible**

******(Chapter 3-  
The Assignment)**

**********  
**

******__****Team 4 Headquarters  
Dearborn, MI**

"Okay, we have an assignment that will be particularly challenging," Jarod began as his colleagues' voices fell respectfully silent. His statement instantly focused their attention on him. "This assignment is domestic and involves a protected corporation. This corporation is an extremely valuable asset that must be retained. In order to do this, the Agency has another team already embedded in a separate, unrelated, deep-undercover operation. We don't know the identities of the other agents and for our purposes, it will be better for us not to know who they are. I'm sure I don't need to review that as a protected corporation they have an expectation of privacy and immunity on an unprecedented level. It is due to their protected status that we have been assigned this op. That said, this man is our objective," Jarod said as he half-way turned and pointed to the photo of an intense-looking, hard-faced man with a thick mane of hair that was graying attractively along his temples.

"Doctor Floyd Thackery," Jarod stated solemnly. "His theories in gene therapy and manipulation are decades ahead of his colleagues. Unfortunately, patience isn't his strong suit. He's taken a narrowly sketched theory and has tried to implement it before its time. The science is still too new and its affects are still too unpredictable even in the laboratory. As a result his test subjects have borne the brunt of his 'hunt and peck' methodology. A few years ago he abused his authority and started clinical trials on unwitting human patients. He fled the country barely a step ahead of several federal indictments for gross medical malpractice and murder."

"Murder? What's this guy's idea of experimentation?" Geoff asked curiously.

"Earlier trials were not very successful. Many of his patients died well in advance of the timeline given by their oncologists and from maladies brought on by _his_ treatments. Thackery's last test subject in this country was a devout Christian who was referred to him for treatment of a rare cancer. Dr. Thackery decided this patient was perfect for the newest upgrades in his experimental treatment. The result is the stuff of nightmares. He completely cured her but the therapy had an unusual and unexpected side-effect on the hypothalamus. Her psychological state deteriorated and she became emotionally unstable. Since the therapy, she has fallen into an uncontrollable promiscuity which was diametrically opposed to her core beliefs. Oddly enough, she actively stalked, then approached a notorious street gang and struck a deal. She would satisfy their appetites while they relieved the pressures brought on by the therapy. So far there's nothing either her family or friends can say or do to convince her to leave this 'arrangement'. Rightfully, the woman's family blamed Thackery and somehow obtained the victim's medical records which mapped out the experimental treatment and its ties to her altered behavior."

"So, where do we find this Dr. Moreau?" Barney asked with quiet antipathy.

"He's at the Centre's corporate headquarters in Blue Cove, Delaware. It's a massive complex that takes up over a mile of terrain and has several sublevels—that's for the main building alone, we're not talking about the private airstrips and outbuildings that belong to the corporation as well. The Centre is practically the only place where Dr. Thackery could hide in this country and still retain his freedom. Our assignment involves not only finding him but also obtaining proof of his on-going human experiments and delivering him into the waiting arms of the federal authorities."

"Oh, is that all? And here I thought you said this was going to be challenging," Jonas commented with a small smile. He knew there had to be several catches to this scenario that Jarod had yet to reveal.

Modesty smiled in response to Jonas' remark and asked, "What kind of business is this Centre?"

"It's an R and D outfit. A think-tank if you will. If you have any kind of high level or top secret problem or strategy to be figured out from everything military to corporate innovation they are the people who will work on the unfeasible until they find a way to make it viable. Their specialty is operational simulations," he replied neutrally.

"As far as I can tell, the common-cold is still prevalent," Jonas offered with a smile.

Jarod smirked and replied, "If you were willing to pay top dollar for the cure, they would work on it. They'll formulate a biological weapon for you along with the antidote if you ask for it—for an additional fee. Maintaining exclusivity on their loyalty is difficult but imperative. That's one of the main reasons why they can not find out who we are and what we're doing. Part of their agreement with the government includes a _blanket_ protected status—the highest level. In exchange, they've been willing to disclose the big money deals they make with their long list of clients when it comes to sensitive research that could adversely affect this government. As long as they keep a low profile with local law enforcement and stay out of any judicial crosshairs, they enjoy immunity from federal investigations and congressional probes." Moving to the side, Jarod revealed several more pictures. Pointing to one, he continued speaking.

"This is William Raines, the current chairman of the Centre. He's unscrupulous, unprincipled and thoroughly ruthless. He oversees the corporation with an iron fist. He's the one responsible for smuggling Dr. Thackery back into this country. We also know that he was placed under some considerable pressure by a deep-pockets consortium to do so. Try to avoid him if at all possible.

"This is Dr. Cox. He's in charge of all medical services for the Centre and is in charge of Dr. Thackery's activities. We believe Thackery is conducting some specialized tests that the Centre has been charged to oversee and to verify the results."

"I take it that _this_ doctor doesn't have any objections to these experiments?"

"We don't know for sure where Dr. Cox stands on this issue but it would be fair to say that he's been ordered to oversee this project. His dossier suggests a certain moral ambiguity and flexibility. Modesty, we'll need you to find a discrete way to get next to Dr. Cox. I have a gut feeling that he's opposed to this project. If I'm right, then we can use that to our advantage," Jarod responded quietly.

"And the government is doing business with these people? From the sound of it, we should be trying to shut them down," Geoff stated angrily.

"I understand how you feel but they're too valuable to shut down. The Centre has gotten their hands dirty in projects the government could never openly engage in or risk being found out if they act covertly. The Centre's particular brand of commodity has served this government too well and too often. It would be intolerable if they should start shopping their goods to another government or worse yet—freelance to the highest bidder. Besides, "shutting them down" is easier said than done. The fear is that if an attempt is made, they will simply offer up a few legal scapegoats and pull up stakes only to reappear at any one of their satellite sites around the world. Barely a hiccup would be felt in their general operations. And all we would've achieved from our righteous indignation is angering a brain trust with the resources and wherewithal to make sure we regret that decision. The agency was called in because it specializes in covert operations. The Centre's connections in this country are as excellent as they are widespread on every socio-economic level. We need to keep a close eye on them while supplying them with enough running room to continue doing their job."

"Keep your friends close and your amoral, brainy associates even closer, eh?" Geoff replied with a weary shake of the head.

"Who's handsome there?" Modesty asked nodding to the next picture on the board.

"That fellow is one Mr. Lyle. His official title is Director of Internal Operations. All that means is that he's the number 3 man at the Centre. He shouldn't directly affect our operation but avoid having any prolonged interaction with him. Lyle isn't exceptionally brilliant in the classical sense but he has an unfailing instinct for detecting vulnerabilities in others. He's the prime reason why Kimberly hasn't been included in this op. He also has a voracious appetite for Asian women. When I say appetite, I mean that figuratively as well as literally."

"Oh," Modesty replied with a disgusted grimace.

"Okay and the babe? What is she, an axe murderer?" Geoff asked with a laugh.

"Last but not least is Miss Parker. She's the Director of Centre Security—foreign and domestic and consequently is Mr. Lyle's twin sister."

"Oh great. Now you're going to say something like she has a sick relationship with her cannibal brother just to make sure all my fantasies die a violent death."

Laughing at Geoff's dismay, Jarod replied, "Actually, no. Miss Parker hates her twin and won't have anything to do with him. Don't be lulled by the pretty face, she's smart, intuitive and takes her job very seriously. She's the one we'll be most concerned with." Looking over at Barney, he asked, "Where are we with Miss Parker's communications?"

"Surprisingly enough, I found her home phone was already bugged. Whoever did it didn't care if she knew about either. Our bug is less obtrusive and well hidden. As for her principal mode of communication, it took some digging, Jarod but we were able to discover the exact brand and model phone that Miss Parker uses," Barney said with a wry smile, holding up a small and very slim cell phone.

"It looks like that popular phone you see in the ads. That's a relief, I was afraid they had outstripped us in the tech department," Jonas stated while staring curiously at the tiny phone. There was something about it that seemed different.

Barney smiled at the scrutiny Jonas was giving the phone. "This version hasn't been released yet. She's had it for about a year and this phone has some very nice features. Workgroup connectivity, streaming 10 mega pixel video camera functionality and encrypted Bluetooth headphone along with a viable voice command feature so she can dictate a memo into the phone and create a hardcopy by calling an internal number to connect with a wireless, networked printer. Add those features and just about everything else a busy executive needs to stay in touch. On the surface, this one behaves and does all the same things as her current phone. The important difference with this phone is that it's connected to _our_ network."

Jonas nodded in understanding. "That way we'll be able to not only monitor all her phone calls without any detectible bugs but we'll also be able to block any calls we don't want her to get. What about conferencing or smart dialing functions?"

"I've monitored her communications long enough to emulate those functions but she rarely uses them. With her on our network, we'll also be able to instantly monitor any voice commands or text messaging as she's typing it in," Barney answered with a satisfied smile. "Someone will have to get close enough to her to swap out her cell phone with ours."

"Jonas, where are we with the ID's?" Jarod asked.

"Well, I did get my hands on one of their employee ID's," he said holding up a small plastic card. "The only problem here is that these cards are embedded with a smart chip. Instead of matching the employee's photograph, this thing has a copy of the retina which a guarded, automated security reader stationed at all the employee entrances, compares to the card holder's. That technology is too sophisticated to duplicate in a few days, so I had to go to plan B."

"What's plan B?" Modesty asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Remember those applications I had you and Geoff fill out? Well, I scanned them and with Jarod's help, found a way into the Centre's human resources database during a scheduled system update and downloaded your paperwork into the newly hired pile. Speaking of which," Jonas reached into his laptop case and pulled out several fresh temporary paper ID's. "Here you go. Remember to wear them whenever you're in or around the complex grounds. These are the three you requested, Geoff. Permanent ID's are issued to Centre personnel after the first month of employment."

Geoff examined his ID's, each with a completely different face. "Jarod, I know what a sweeper is in the military but what exactly is a sweeper in the Centre?"

"SWPR—Special-weapons personnel, it's the terminology the Centre uses for its active security personnel. They are trained to use a variety of weapons under a wide range of stressful situations. Their duties vary from personal security details assigned to the top executives to highly trained assassins available for special assignments and everything in between."

"That puts a whole new spin on outsourcing," Geoff replied grimly.

Turning to Modesty, Jarod asked, "Do you have your cover story set up?"

"Yes, Jarod. The clinic I'm claiming to have worked for is cooperating fully. They will readily attest to my employment and qualifications. I'm guessing Centre security will be checking up on my credentials? How long do you plan on keeping us in play?"

"That's the tricky part of this mission. It should last longer than our usual ops, about a month. The Centre in general has excellent security in place 24/7. Miss Parker in particular has learned from several past mistakes and has further upgraded their security protocols to thwart any incursions into the Centre's data centers and has made it near impossible for anyone to walk in uninvited. There will be no way for you to get inside and simply walk out with the doctor's records. The best way will be to upload the records electronically in an innocuous file for us to extract so then we can download our altered files and replace them for the real ones."

"If I can't walk out with the real thing, how am I supposed to dispose of them? Just throw them in the trash?"

"No, those files must be destroyed. Actually there's something called 'burn bags'. I'm counting on you to find a way of sneaking the real discs into a burn bag that won't be checked—one from another department preferably."

"And preferably without being caught in the act," Modesty replied seriously. Glancing up at the storyboard she had one more question for Control. "What about the Security Director? You make her sound very effective. Who will be running interference with her?"

Geoff's face brightened hopefully. He was ready to volunteer if no one else was willing to wade into danger. Jarod saw his face as did the rest of the team and looked at him with incredulous humor. Geoff's reputation among the group was that of a ladies' man. He was very handsome but his romantic attention span could rival that of a 4 year old child playing with an old toy. He wasn't deficient by any means but once he achieved his ulterior motive, the thrill of the chase would dissipate along with his interest.

"Sorry, Geoff, the Security Director will be my responsibility. Parker is extremely effective, mainly because she has few distractions. Her main interest is her job and to complicate matters even more is the fact that she has her own brand of intuition, which usually puts her in the right place at the right time. If anything out of the ordinary happens, she'll start asking questions and putting her people into place to undermine any threats. Parker and I have a history that should tip the balance in our favor for at least a couple days. I have a few ideas on how to keep her distracted."

"History?" Geoff, replied happily. Someone else's love life, especially the mysterious Control's held his curiosity like nothing else outside of an assignment could. "Sounds promising."

Jarod smirked again and shifting his stance, he folded his arms across his chest and replied, "The last time I spoke to Miss Parker, she promised to try and shoot me on sight—something she's tried before. Ours isn't exactly a loving relationship—unless you're referring to her love of pulling out a 9mm every time she sees me."

"That sort of reaction would seem to have the opposite affect to our purpose," Barney replied slowly.

"On the contrary, it'll work very well for us. Miss Parker doesn't know about any of you or who I work for. Once she sees me, I'm counting on her attention being focused on me. She'll expect an attempt to break into the Centre's servers and data annexes from the outside, not the inside. I'll be the distraction that will allow Modesty and Geoff to go about their business while drawing Parker's attention away from their activities."

"You make it sound as if you've done this before," Modesty said thoughtfully.

"I have and history will work in our favor. If this were a straightforward job of breaking into the Centre and retrieving some documentation, I would be able to handle it on my own. There are a number of factors weighing against that approach. One, we need to find out where the doctor is hiding his records. After his victim's family was able to get a hold of his patient charts, the doctor has become a great deal more cautious, almost to the point of paranoia. That's where you come in Modesty. As his new assistant, you'll be in a unique position to learn where his patient charts are and alert Geoff so he can get in at the right time, and upload the real files while downloading the fake ones. The fake files should do most of the heavy lifting in discrediting the doctor in the eyes of the Centre, namely in the personage of Dr. Cox. Second, the added complication of delivering Dr. Thackery into the waiting arms of the authorities, calls for a more complex operation. Speaking of which, Jonas where are you on that potion for the good doctor?"

Holding up a small glass container, Jonas explained, "This vial contains a solution that leaves a person malleable and open to suggestion, after which the victim falls into a catatonic state for 3 hours. He'll be out but still able to walk with some assistance, which will make things easier for me and Geoff. Its molecular structure has been designed to be broken down by the body's metabolism leaving no trace in the blood stream."

"And the recording is ready?"

"All ready to be piped into the doctor's living quarters, including instructions on where he needs to go to escape his torment," Barney replied with a satisfied smirk.

"Good we'll need it to make sure the doctor shows up on cue. Also Modesty, if we can find out who his latest victims are, we will also have living proof of the doctor's horrors and perhaps these newest victims will receive the proper care in reversing whatever the doctor has done to them. Jonas, were you able to get the truck?"

"All done, Jarod, whenever Geoff signals, I'll be ready."

"I know how this might sound, but what about giving Geoff a shot at romancing Miss Parker? It might work and he might get her to unwittingly cooperate," Barney asked cautiously. He was testing the waters of Jarod's plans. This plan hinged on keeping the Security director off her game and he was aware that his question was also on the minds of the others.

"Miss Parker is closed off and insulated. Her relationship with the Chairman is extremely contentious. She's watched and as you found out, her conversations and movements are closely monitored. Getting to her would be a time consuming endeavor at best. Added to that, she is a difficult person to get to know. She's very cautious and suspicious out of habit. If by some chance he were able to quickly surmount these obstacles, becoming romantically involved with her would be a risky business. Control spells power and that's what this place is all about. When it comes to the upper echelon executive, the need for control turns fanatical. The Centre looks down on their high-level management getting involved with people not previously cleared and vetted by them—including the Security Director. Going in as a new sweeper and trying to grab an executive's eye? Forget about it. I already know how to get to her and to do so without the Centre knowing about it. I'm fairly certain that she won't want a repeat of our past so she'll keep quiet about my reappearance. I also know how to get under her skin, what irritates her and how far I can push her."

Gaining eye contact with each member of his team, Jarod continued in a grave tone of voice. "If there was a nicer way to go about this, I would. Unfortunately for both of us there isn't. We have a timetable which is longer than our usual. Drawing it out won't do us or the doctor's current victims any good. On the other hand, I don't want to rush this and hazard any unnecessary exposure. Let's get started."


	4. How we got here

**Disclaimer**: Please see Chapter 1 for details  
**_Author's note_**: Miss Parker's involvement in this tale will be extensive. 24 is one of my _favorite_ shows. Thanks for reading! 

**Mission  
Impossible**

******(Chapter 4  
Centre players)**

**************__****The Centre  
Blue Cove, DE**

The object of so much planning and speculation walked purposely through the corridors feeling very good—for once. Lately, the state of her health wasn't something she took for granted. Plagued recently with persistent low-grade fevers, nose bleeds and nagging headaches that turned into tsunami strength migraines which reduced her to tears the second she was alone was becoming the norm. Every moment of well being was immediately taken advantage of and then treasured.

In the last couple years many things had occurred which alleviated the horrendous burden that she had been carrying around endlessly. Though she missed him, her father's death released her from so many things in so many ways. No longer did she feel the need or emotional obligation to try and win his un-winnable approval. Then the realization that he most likely wasn't her biological parent threw her into a tailspin of confusion and self-doubt. She was too old for an identity crisis and had been lied to too often to take the thought of Raines being her father lying down. Soon after Mr. Parker's suicide, when she and the pursuit team were returning from a fruitless lead on Jarod, Parker didn't accompany Broots and Sydney back to the Centre. Instead, she wrote up her report on a company laptop, submitted it electronically and headed up to Maine. It was Jarod who had originally suggested the idea and though she would never admit it to anyone, his opinions and theories had rarely let her down. She showed up unexpectedly at Ben's place on Lake Catherine and after a lot of small talk, blurted out her dilemma. Careful to word her request as an act that would clear her mother's tarnished name and reputation, Ben gladly handed over a vial of his blood for testing. The independent lab in Toronto confirmed her suspicions and broke her heart once again. Jarod, as usual, was right on the money. Mr. Parker, in cahoots with Raines, his twisted brother, pulled off yet another hoax. Parker would never share her findings with anyone at the Centre—in her opinion the identity of her true parents mattered only to herself—and as for Lyle, well he never entered into the equation. After this revelation, her internal battle of self-doubt and grinding responsibility slowly gave way. In effect, Broots had been right. Her attitude slowly changed and relaxed towards those closest to her. The result of such relief was apparent in her face and total mien. If it were possible, she looked younger, fresher and more attractive than ever before. What did remain the same was the pervasive sorrow in her eyes. It was a stain that would take too much interest and effort to fade, that would demand a complete change of lifestyle, so Parker shrugged and decided that she would rather live the rest of her life with her grief rather than one more moment with yet another lie.

It was her persistent beauty that attracted the Chairman's attention. He was tired of Parker and her family—including Lyle. Too often his brother had favored the abrasive girl over his own flesh and blood. What further irritated the Chairman was Parker's success. He figured it was his brother's pride that bolstered the girl's prior success in Security. That and some fancy cover-ups whenever she made any blunders. The rumors that swirled around her during her early days in Security suggested a weakness for self-indulgence and an uncertain grasp of Centre realities. Raines never believed she had the self-discipline or mental wherewithal to rise to his challenge. Not only was she triumphant but the wench took the ball and ran with it. Her ideas were bringing in money, not nearly as much as Jarod but still they were making a hefty profit. To top things off, the idiot, sociopath, cannibal she called twin also decided it was time to shine. Regardless of his twin's thumping success or perhaps spurred on by it, Lyle ran the internal operations of the Centre flawlessly. Every day, he was proving himself to be more than an empty suit filled with the most debased and abhorrent of desires. As a test, Lyle was entrusted with direct control over a moderate yield Centre investment account. Under his direction, the account had quickly grown into one of the largest portfolios owned by the corporation—with no signs of stopping. Raines was disgusted.

Since Jarod had gone to ground, the Chairman had been beset by a multitude of setbacks and irritating distractions. This latest from the Triumvirate was a prime example. It all started at a monthly conference call in which he had allowed his attention to wander. His lack of concentration was the thing that had gotten him into this current mess. If he had been paying more attention, then he would have replied from the viewpoint of his new position as Chairman which demanded a more pedantic fiscal approach and a Tower of directors to whom he answered. As it turned out, the research scientist inside of him answered and in the end, found he had unintentionally invested his reputation and chairmanship on a position that he would've rather avoided.

Unfortunately, the Triumvirate had devoted a great deal of time and effort in this project and was more than happy to hear that he was on-board. They felt this new therapy was cutting edge and could become a long-term money maker once it proved it's potential. The consortium wanted a large influx of cash from the Centre, practically demanded it. They could feel their hold on the valuable corporation slipping away and wanted to leave no doubt as to who was truly in charge of the Centre's present and future. Raines knew if he resisted, a new Chairman would be appointed and his retirement would include an unmarked grave somewhere in equatorial Africa. After delving further into the prospectus of the Triumvirate's project, Raines was reluctantly obliged to recognize that he committed the Centre to the success of a scheme that his gut told him wouldn't get passed the word go. Now he was stuck with a dog-that-wouldn't-hunt project; a pair of twins showing him up at every turn—proving his well thought-out opinion was actually intolerance and based on his hatred of their mother, and a Tower of directors that not only opposed his Triumvirate commitment but thought he was mad for consenting to it in the first place. Raines was in a box that offered only one way out in his twisted way of thinking and that included skillfully throwing a certain pair of twins under the bus to save his own skin.

Cox stared at the growing list of benchmark symptoms with grim acceptance. Thackery's treatment plan was simple enough but Cox still thought it was too risky to attempt on a healthy and viable human. In all of the records submitted, there wasn't any mention of animal studies. The basic research wasn't properly documented or revision tracked to show its progress, changes, improvements or how the damned theory could be reasonably adjusted to suit the Centre's unusual application. No formal proposal had been submitted to any group or panel of impartial physicians, statisticians or scientists involved in gene therapy treatment for an independent review of this quack's claims. In secret, Cox informed the Tower of his findings and backed up his skepticism with the paperwork he had been given. Despite their dismay and pressure on the Chairman, the Tower executive body was immediately warned off directly by the Triumvirate. The Tower was growing increasingly weary of Triumvirate demands and most importantly missteps. This would make the fifth time the Triumvirate demanded a scientific study that promised to net the millions but had gone for naught and left the Centre holding the proverbial money-draining bag. Cox hoped that when this gene therapy failed, and he was sure it would, that the slow-moving body of executives would seek to finally marginalize the Triumvirate's influence once and for all. Mr. Parker had been right; a new day was definitely needed at the Centre.

The second object of so much planning and speculation was also feeling very well. They had completed treatment for Phase 1 on his main target and were finalizing his plans to start on the secondary target. Though the results of the first round were not readily apparent, Thackary was sure that the symptoms he outlined to the OB/GYN would prove useful. On another front, he also received good news. His report to the Triumvirate had produced the results he wanted. The Centre's Tower, Dr. Cox and the wishy-washy Chairman had all backed off and gave him free rein to conduct his experiments as he pleased. Why the Triumvirate chose such an odd way to apply his therapy was of no concern, the doctor was confident that regardless the application, his treatments would work beautifully. Once again he carefully documented his experiments but this time he created two sets of patient charts. An innocuous but inaccurate copy for anyone nosey enough to try and hang him for conducting legitimate science and another for himself so he could further the reach of his research. If anything his federal indictments had taught him was to be careful no matter who was backing him. He felt so confident about his impending success that in his weekly communiqué he asked the African consortium to begin preparations for Phase 3.

Parker had a number of meetings to attend—practically her entire day consisted of a round robin of brain-numbing, get-absolutely-nothing-done meetings that made the day drag on like a crippled blind man through a minefield of broken glass. Torture really but there was no way of avoiding it. Her assistant, Remy could only attend so many and her constant absences would warrant an unpleasant visit from old Wheezy himself. She had long lost her fearful respect of Raines and now despite his improbable vault to chairman, she was left with a barely repressible contempt that she didn't bother hiding most of the time. Her relief in finding that she was no more related to him than to Mickey Mouse exposed her indifference to the hateful old man's implied threats. If it weren't for her concern over Broots' survival—Sydney could dodge a speeding bullet better than Batman—she probably would've simply walked away, like Jarod, soon after she last spoke with him.

Preoccupied with these thoughts, Parker found herself instinctively slowing which made her look around curiously. There was a gathering crowd of sweepers in the main mezzanine looking lost and in need of a leader. Since the usual brain activity of a sweeper was basically on the same level as an overfed alligator in the tropics, Parker changed direction and headed directly for the group to find out what they were doing. She was standing near the back of the crowd unrecognized for a few minutes before Sam appeared and started taking count. The fact that she went incognito among them meant that this was the current group of newbie sweepers, recently hired for the rapidly expanding corporation.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there," Sam stated apologetically. "Our usual conference room was occupied. That's why this group is spilling out into the mezzanine." The respectful manner in which the Supervising Sweeper addressed her caused over a dozen pair of eyes to turn and stare at her inquisitively.

"Who's in your space? Remy's had that room reserved for over a month now," she replied flatly.

Sam was about to reply, when the answer came sauntering into view. Lyle glanced at Sam, and then turned his gaze at the crowd waiting for him coolly. "What's going on out here? And what are these people doing loitering in the hall?"

"Waiting on you, Lyle. They've had this room reserved weeks in advance," Parker responded with a voice full of disgust, as she turned to leave.

"It's not the only conference room in the building. They could've gone elsewhere. I'm conducting important business here," Lyle huffed dismissively, easily falling into step with her and out of earshot of the new sweepers.

"Important business?" Parker questioned with a raised eyebrow noting that no one else appeared to have been in the room with him. "The next time you need some alone time, use one of the cells on SL-25. There's plenty of room down there for you to frolic to your heart's content. What's wrong with your office?"

"It's bugged. I guess you wouldn't know anything about that," he answered snidely.

"What you do in your office is your business. You'll have to ask your father about that one. He's the only one with a stomach strong enough to be interested."

Lyle's jaw clinched as he looked sideways at his twin. He would've preferred being on better terms with her but she was equally determined not to be. How she could let a few attempts on her life come in the way of family showed true intractability. The closest he ever got to Parker was before Jarod insinuated his big nose in the middle of things. It was yet another in a string of small, irritating details that the resentful pretender had turned against him. The guy really needed to learn how not to carry a grudge. At least Jarod had given them all a break and decided to go to ground. Peace at last.

Shedding Lyle as she headed to her offices in the Tower, Parker breezed into her private sanctuary and headed straight for the aspirin in her desk. Her new office was decorated in a minimalist style. She eschewed Centre tradition, started by Mr. Parker, of using art deco for decoration and instead used large, stylish still photo prints to grace her walls. The main advantage of her new office was that it offered a spectacular view of the shore. Parker's habit of not blocking the view allowed a steady stream of sunlight to burst through and illuminate the whole office. The wood paneling and matching wood framed desk, which had only a sleek monitor on top with the computer concealed within, completed the style and gave any visitor a false impression that not much was ever done or accomplished in the room—nothing could be further from the truth. There was a bank of wood faced file cabinets and credenzas that held the heavy workload she usually labored with each day. Her personal sweeper Michael kept the information in the files up to date. Lately, she had noticed that the sweeper was becoming overly possessive of his job functions. Soon it would be time to re-evaluate his position. Parker hated any proprietary attitudes her subordinates began having towards her with the only exception being Remy. He would follow her into hell if he thought she needed someone to watch her back.

A light pressure was building behind her eyes which could only mean one thing. A massive headache would start in a few minutes that would play havoc on the rest of her day unless she took steps to prevent it. The voices in her mind, backed up by her own instincts, advised her to keep this malady secret. In a rush to make the last half of the meeting she was supposed to already be in, Parker downed 4 aspirin and picking up a Centre embossed portfolio from its lonely perch on her desk, headed out the door.

Remy had spotted his boss rushing towards her office and waited courteously for her to emerge. Remy Esperanze was a ragin' Cajun from start to finish, being blessed with a natural ability to pick out the incongruous in a sea of ubiquity left him with a scalding impatience with others who tried to fool him. Intelligence was in his nature and women were his constant weakness. He liked Parker the minute he laid eyes on her but he was sharp enough to see an intense intelligence in her eyes—that and something more. Instinctively, he refrained, with some difficulty, from trying to hit on her. She smiled knowingly at him and from that moment, Remy counted her as a friend and confidante. Her assistant's reaction took Parker by surprise. Rarely had anyone willingly taken her into their confidence but since the changes in her life, she decided to treat Remy's personal opinions and life with care—thus solidifying the man's increasing esteem of her. Together, they were a formidable team. Anything Parker wanted, Remy made sure would happen. If Remy had a differing opinion, Parker always listened and occasionally deferred to her lieutenant.

"Director, there are a number of items that we need to go over before you get sucked into another meeting," Remy began in his soft Louisiana accent, neatly murdering the last r in his words.

"Walk with me," Parker replied briskly.

"The software giant wants to know when the latest security upgrades will be available. Dr. Cox wants you to report to the infirmary for a check-up. Something to do with an annual physical that's been scheduled for all division management, about insurance or some such. And Broots has found the address of a pipsqueak hacker that keeps trying to gain access to the corporate media and exchange servers—prob'ly on a dare."

Parker slowed her pace during Remy's recital. She knew he had weeded out everything but the most critical items. Whatever Cox wanted could wait until the next ice age. The software vendor was at the mercy of Broots' progress. It was the attempt to break into the media server that raised the red flag.

"This meeting is almost over. Get the address from Broots, grab a few sweepers and arrange for a little field trip. We're going to pay a visit to our determined little hacker friend," she said softly.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll go round up the usual suspects," Remy replied, meaning the sweepers.

"Remy, be sure to include a couple of the new people. Sam's got a group of enrollees in South conference 2E. I want the green-eyed guy with the dark hair and the fashion victim wearing the gray suit to come along. I got a look at our newest prospects a few minutes ago and I think those two will be the only one's we'll be keeping."

"You got it," Remy answered as he rushed off to follow her orders. Jarod's mole in the Centre was unexpectedly being given his first assignment.


	5. First Assignment

**Disclaimer**: Please see Chapter 1 for details

**Mission Impossible**

******(Chapter 5  
Incursion)**

**********Trader's Inn – Bed and Breakfast  
Blue Cove, DE**

Nestled in the tourist trap portion of exclusive Blue Cove, the team found refuge in a surprisingly comfortable B&B. Reservations had been made in advance and the team had no problems moving in unnoticed. Barney helped Jonas set up his computer equipment, while Jarod made sure the rest of the op continued to run smoothly. Geoff was already in the Centre as his first day as a sweeper began and Modesty had just headed out for her first meeting with Dr. Thackery. Everything was going swimmingly until they received a text message from Geoff. He was on the move.

Jarod frowned at this information. It was far too soon for Geoff to be placed on an assignment. The Centre had plenty of experienced sweepers to cull from before resorting to the new people. Tapping Jonas on the shoulder, Jarod smoothly replaced him at the terminal and rapidly tapped in a series of program code which granted him access to the Centre's operations server. Within seconds, he found out where Geoff was going and delving into the Security net server, Jarod found out why and with whom.

"Looks like Miss Parker isn't wasting any time. She's taking a small group of sweepers out on a field trip to confront a hacker who's been trying to get into their server farm. Geoff apparently was included as part of a vetting exercise. If he passes this test, then he'll go on to the next phase of training."

"How can you be so sure?" Jonas asked curiously.

"Sweeper training can be brutal. They want to make sure the people they have doing the grunt work are well suited," Jarod answered. Then exhaling resolutely, he stood up. "Well, there's no time like the present. This is the perfect opportunity to start throwing Miss Parker off our scent."

"Are you going in?" Jonas asked.

"I'll follow them and wait for Parker just inside the apartment complex."

"We'll follow you in the van, just in case," Barney stated firmly while grabbing his arm. Barney slyly affixed a small listening device on Jarod's sleeve. Sometimes Control took more chances with his life and safety than was necessary.

"Okay. Jonas, signal to Geoff that I'm going in as well. I have to try to get Miss Parker alone while keeping out of sight of everyone else."

Jarod jumped out of the van and into a waiting sedan and sped off to meet the Centre group.

**********__****Druckers' Apartment  
Milford, DE**

Parker sat back in the comfort of the upholstered Lincoln Town Car and watched impassively as the group of sweepers arranged themselves as planned. It was mid-morning and the street was for the most part quiet. The neighborhood was strictly middle-class with most of the residents away from their homes and hard at work. However, to retain a measure of anonymity, she had the other Town Car filled with sweepers, park a block away and in the back alley. The building was large and depressing in its studied attempt to create a homey appeal. Unfortunately, the maintenance crew lacked interest and it showed from the tattered and haphazard upkeep.

The two groups of Centre personnel met in the hallway and started up the stairs with Remy and one of the new sweepers leading the way. The team moved with practiced ease through the building—the new sweepers doing their best to emulate their counterparts. No weapons had been drawn and not a word had been exchanged between them. When Remy indicated that they had arrived at the target apartment, Parker stopped short several doors down and used hand signals to order two experienced sweepers back downstairs and around the back. Slowly she joined Remy and noticed approvingly that she retained use of the two new guys. She gave the two experienced sweepers time to block off any escape attempts from the back before knocking softly on the front door. After trying a couple more times, she nodded to one of the new sweepers. Impulsively, the man stood back and was about to kick in the door, when Remy held him back. Geoff watched attentively and knew his colleague had just committed a grave error. Smoothly, he pulled a credit card from his wallet and palmed it. Approaching the door, he swiftly and quietly jimmied the flimsy lock but hesitated before swinging the door wide open. Carefully looking at the jam, he spotted the alarm trigger. Nodding towards his find, Remy grunted approvingly and used a flexible aluminum card to maintain the cheap alarm contact.

Inside, the group entered and instantly spread out, treading softly and looking for their hacker. The clacking of a keyboard drew Parker's attention where she found the man busily typing in code on his computers. The group entered the room and then filled it behind the hacker as the fellow continued to type furiously. The Centre's logo was on his screen as the fellow began getting past the first security hurdle that led nowhere. Muffled music leaked from the headphones which explained why there wasn't any answer to Parker's polite knocking. His closed eyes explained why he wasn't alarmed by their presence while he bobbed his head in time to the blaring music.

Smirking cynically, Parker stared at Drucker for several moments before stepping forward and laying a heavy hand on his shoulder. Startled, the fellow jumped in his chair, opened his eyes and looked around to find a very muscular sweeper staring down at him. Almost without thought, he returned to typing as the new sweeper, eager to make up for his earlier mistake, grabbed Drucker's chair and yanked him away from his keyboard before he could erase anything. Drucker slowly got up and looked at his guests. One of them was a woman who was staring at him. Without saying anything, she pointed to her ear as though trying to communicate with an absolute idiot. Belatedly Drucker realized that he still had the headphones on. Slipping them off he nervously licked his lips, deeply afraid of the implied threat that oozed from the intruders.

The hacker, Drucker was clearly in his early twenties, his hair was cut short and well groomed but that was as far as his grooming went. The sour smell of sweat and fear seeped from his over taxed pours. His complexion was pale and his eyes red-rimmed from staring too long at a computer monitor. His simple t-shirt had the faded logo of a local band and from the look of him; he used his clothes like an oversized napkin to wipe the greasy remnants of his prepackaged meals from his fingers. The numerous wrinkles in his clothes held stray food bits like a foul pantry.

He looked at the group and figured they were federal drones about to bust him for trying to hack the system of a shady corporate giant that did the government's bidding. The woman was tallish, but it was obvious that she didn't want to reveal her identity. She was wearing dark shades inside, in addition to a dark pinstriped suit and an attractive blue silk shirt. Her hair was up off her shoulders with soft tendrils trailing down artfully.

"What do you want? There isn't much here to steal," Roman Drucker said as a weak bluff.

"You seem to think stealing from others just might improve that ratio. I don't like it when people try to steal from me. You see, I tend to take it personally," Parker responded.

"Who are you?" Roman asked and with admirable speed tried to swipe the sunglasses from Parker's face. The new sweeper watching him was surprised by the man's speed but prevented him from being completely successful. Again Geoff noted the mistake and decided in order to better blend in, commit one himself. Moving in close and quick, he punched the young man in the solar plexus, felling him.

Parker righted her shades and seemed disgusted that someone so physically dirty would even try to touch her. Without losing her composure, she looked down at the man and clinched her jaw. This was apparently a signal to Remy.

"Bring them in, boys. Its' about time this _bon rien_ tried starting ove'r," he said in a more pronounced version of his accent.

Within a few minutes, while Roman was recovering, a couple sweepers returned carrying two heavy sacks, one of which was handed to Remy. An angry swipe later, the precariously stacked CD's were scattered onto the floor and a small device was carefully set on the crowded desktop to replace it. Nodding to Geoff, Remy signaled for the sweepers to drag the man from the room. Once he was gone, the sweeper at the door nodded to Remy, who quickly, pulled out a cell phone and using speed dial, made a quick connection to his contact at the Centre. "I'm in and the computa' is still up and running. What do you need me to do?"

In the living room area, Roman Drucker finally found his breath and stood up straight. He made a mental note of the six people who had entered his home without producing a warrant. With a small smile, he felt confident that all the charges would have to be dropped.

Parker watched the smirk slowly emerge on the computer geek's face. She knew it would soon be replaced with despair the second he realized what they were up to. She had no intention of reporting this little weasel to the authorities. The Centre's protected status prevented that. It was imperative to keep a low profile with the local law, so situations such as these demanded a personal touch. Still smarting from the creep trying to take her glasses, Parker's distaste was interrupted by the voices in her mind starting to whisper incessantly. Taking a step away from the group, she tried to quiet her mind to hear what they were saying. Unfortunately, the new sweepers took her movement as leading them out of the apartment and they dutifully followed her. Thankful for the glasses concealing her eyes and irritation, Parker continued to the front door.

"Tape him," she ordered curtly.

Instantly, the sweeper who brought the bags rummaged inside of one and tossed his partner a full role of duct tape. With surprising ease, the sweeper detached a piece of tape and after some trouble with it, gagged Roman securely. It was then when Roman first noticed that all his visitors were wearing gloves.

Once again Parker moved away and the two new sweepers, each securely holding on to one of Roman's arms, followed her outside and to the stairwell. Geoff had no idea what Remy and the other sweeper were up to or what Miss Parker intended on doing with this unwashed specimen. He had seen much in the years he had worked undercover for the agency. But he couldn't help but hope that she wouldn't order this guy's death—he was just starting to really like her style.

A few minutes later, Remy and the other sweeper emerged from the apartment holding 2 empty sacks. With a slight huff, he stated, "All done."

Roman noticed the studious way they all avoided using names as it began to dawn on him that just maybe they weren't cops after all. Since when did a cop care whether or not some citizen yelled at the top of their lungs? The woman took something from the Southern guy and turned to him. Nodding to the sweeper on the right, she waited for him to do something. When the fellow appeared confused the Southerner reached over and held out Roman's hand.

"Remember, you did this to yourself," she said softly as she painfully gripped two of his fingers and forced him to flip a switch on a control box, instantly two explosions followed.

"That sounded loud. What's the range?" Parker asked.

"Twenty-one hunne'd square, it was the smallest I could find," Remy replied laconically, knowing full well the apartment was no more than 900 square feet. He didn't care if it were a 100 yards, this _saleau_ had it coming. The pulse charges would destroy every electronic device in the immediate area rendering them so useless that each would have to be replaced. "I turned on all his computers, the TV and anything else I could find, but I was assured that the charges were strong enough to take out anything that had a circuit board including those so-call ruggedized gizmos that aren't presently carrying a current."

"Perfect," she said with a satisfied nod. Then turning to Roman who didn't and couldn't believe what he was hearing, the woman confirmed his worst suspicions. "You've just activated 2 very powerful EM pulse devices, one in your room and the other in the living room. Let this be a lesson because if we have to come out here again, we definitely won't be so cordial."

During her speech, Remy signaled to one of the experienced sweepers and went back into the apartment. They quickly returned with their sacks once again weighted down by the remnants of the unseen devices they collected.

"Looks like they worked as advertised," he reported giving Roman a wide, unkind smile.

"Good." Looking at the bumbling new sweeper, Parker stated, "Go get the others round back. We leave in 5 minutes."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied quietly. He was aware of his mistakes and felt that all he could do was withdraw with at least some measure of dignity and composure. Parker and Remy watched him leave and smirked at each other. The sweeper's reaction was what they were looking for; the poor guy had no idea that he had just been selected for further training at the hands of Sven. It would be tough going.

Returning to Roman, Parker ordered Geoff to walk him back to his apartment, temporarily incapacitate and then release him. Without responding, Geoff followed her orders by man-handling Roman, treating him to another solar plexus message and quickly closing the front door of the electronically dead apartment behind him.

"Those boosters Broots advised we get, worked like a charm. I left a few behind just in case he tries booting up som'thing the other devices missed."

"Talk about overkill, but that should slow him up considerably," she replied.

Parker had turned on her heel and was headed out of the apartment when the voices in her mind started again. Determined to hear what they were saying and not wanting to miss any detail, she paused but sent Remy ahead to the car, stating she would follow in a couple minutes. Her assistant hesitated but thought better of countermanding her order and went ahead. Geoff was softly padding down the apartment stairs when he saw Parker look around confusedly and then turn down a dark hallway leading to the opposite end of the complex. Curious, he followed to see what she was up to and became concerned when she reached behind her back and pulled out a 9mm.

Looking down the darkened hallway, Parker saw the silhouette of a man standing there. Spooked, she approached cautiously. Almost the instant she saw him, the man disappeared. Pulling her weapon, she followed her instincts and the shadow down the deserted hallway. There was no need to look around; she could feel the new sweeper behind her as she made her way to the other end of the building. When they reached the end of the hallway and found nothing Parker continued looking around and noticed a maintenance room door had been left ajar.

"Stay here," she ordered Geoff as she cautiously entered the room. She had finally understood one word the voices were whispering but she could hardly believe it any more than Roman could believe that they had ruined every piece of electronic equipment in his apartment, and in most of his neighbor's apartments as well.

She entered holding the weapon at shoulder height and almost immediately spotted another room. When she examined most of the second room she slowly lowered the 9mm and breathed through her mouth, while holding her nose. The stench of oil, cleaning fluids and damp was overpowering.

"Long time, no see," a deep but familiar male voice said sardonically.

Whirling at the sound, her 9mm came up effortlessly and was pointing directly in the face of the one person she had hoped never to see again. "Jarod? No, it can't be! What the hell??"

"Well, not exactly hell but you seem to enjoy working there." he replied. The stunned expression on Parker's face told him that this reunion wasn't her idea of a good thing. "That's not quite the cordial greeting I had hoped but I guess you used all you had on that poor fellow you just ruined. I see you're still using a sledge hammer when a fly swatter would do."

Parker gradually lowered her 9mm and the holstered it. She was just a hair shy of being shocked silly by his unexpected appearance but fortunately the voices had already prepared her prior to entering the room. The fact that the voices were so accurate was a bit unsettling. Forcibly calming herself she looked up to see the pretender staring hard at her. He had a blank expression on his face which told Parker that he didn't want to share his true reaction. Six years of chasing after this man had taught her enough about reading his expressions—even his non-expressions. However the idea of returning to that hateful game of run/chase was right up there on her list with having her gums extracted. They were already at the point where explanations were useless, all she wanted was for him to find that hole he had slipped into and disappear again.

Jarod read her expression and though outwardly he retained his composure, he was shocked by the depth of her desire to be permanently rid of him. This realization stung quite a bit but he suppressed it. It was strange but despite her obvious shock she seemed to have been prepared for his surprise appearance. Then he remembered the voices and the gift she shared with Ethan. That could be the only explanation. At least this first meeting with her was going exactly as he expected.

"Why have you come back here? What do you want?"

"All in due time Miss Parker. What I wanted today was for you to know that I'm back. And let me say, that you're looking uncommonly well but if you don't want the Centre to know about my return prematurely, I would suggest you leave first. Otherwise the sweeper you have outside just might start talking to his little sweeper friends."

"Strike that, I don't care about why you've come back. Drop it, let it go, Jarod. We're both free, let's keep it that way. It would be best if you stay gone." With that Parker quickly left the room and stormed past the sweeper. Geoff couldn't hear what was being said behind the door but judging from the look on Miss Parker's face as she emerged, Jarod had done what he promised. Thoroughly disconcerted and distracted Miss Parker.

Jarod listened first to Parker's hurried footsteps and then the heavier footsteps of her newest sweeper. He knew he had nothing to fear from Geoff trying to personally communicate with him. Geoff was too much of the consummate professional for that. Taking hold of the work bench with a gloved hand, Jarod leaned forward for a few seconds realizing that although he had thoroughly dealt with her rejection a few years ago and blocked all thoughts of her from his heart, he was stunned to find that his attraction to her was as alive and well as it had been when they first met as children. That was disconcerting. He would need all his objectivity and self-control to retain focus on this op. The last thing either he or his team needed was for extraneous emotion to get in the way and cloud his judgment. So she considered them _both_ free. Shaking his head with a combination of incredulity and self-disgust Jarod headed in the opposite direction from Parker. It was a start.


	6. It went like this

**Disclaimer:** Please see Chapter 1 for details.

**  
Mission  
Impossible**

******(Chapter 6**  
…**so it begins)**

******__****Haley's Furniture  
Stoney Shores, DE**

As a precaution, Barney placed a discrete listening device on Jarod's coat. He was afraid that Control's description of the woman was not only accurate but his expectations were a little too high. However, according to their conversation—Jarod had been proven correct about her reaction. When both had gotten too silent, Barney was afraid the woman had indeed pulled her weapon and was prepared to shoot him. Instead, she merely warned him away and left. Barney told Jonas what he had overheard. Jonas, who was driving the van that held an impressive array of monitors, computers and all the accoutrements associated with high security surveillance, nodded in his agreement with Barney's concerns. Both men waited anxiously for his return wondering what Jarod's reaction was considering this development.

Later that evening, the whole team assembled to exchange their first impressions and discuss if any alterations to the original plan were needed. They met several miles away from Blue Cove in an unused, decrepit storefront. Distance was necessary to secure a small measure of anonymity and to avoid any chance recognition by wandering Centre staff. The corporation was the largest employer in the area which included the surrounding cities as well.

Jarod arrived at the rendezvous point pensive and barely communicative. Next to arrive was Modesty with Geoff rounding out the group. Though he had been last to arrive, Geoff's field trip with Miss Parker was immediately the topic of conversation.

"It was touch and go there for a while. I honestly thought they were going to murder the little weasel. But they took all their angst out on the poor guy's computer equipment." Stealing a look at Jarod's closed expression Geoff continued cautiously, "So far, Miss Parker's turning out to be not too bad but then this is my first day. With that attitude and bad temper, I thought she would be a royal you-know-what to work for but she's fairly even-tempered as long as everyone is doing what she expects."

"Come on, Geoff, get to the good part. Is she as beautiful as her photo suggests?" Jonas asked with a conscious smile. He was becoming increasingly curious, partly because of what Barney had overheard and partly because of Jarod's current demeanor.

Returning Jonas' smile with a wolfish grin, he answered, "Her picture doesn't do her justice. She's got curves that could teach a man a whole lot about himself. And legs that go on forever. The woman should be a fashion model instead of a security director. Mix in plenty of brains and volatility and you've got one hell of a woman."

"Enjoy the thrill of her charms now but remember, these are only first impressions," Modesty cautioned.

"Geoff, you said the other new sweeper who went with you was assigned to formal training in Dover. How long will he be staying in Delaware? And will the same thing happen to you?" Barney asked.

"His initial training and orientation goes on here for about a month before he'll be shipped off to wherever. The guy is happy to know that he's still employed. The others who started with us have already been let go. As for me, no I won't suffer the same fate. Miss Parker was so impressed by yours truly that I've been temporarily assigned to Corporate. My first detail is providing security for the lady herself," he replied with a wry smile.

Everyone was impressed, including Jarod who lifted his eyebrows appreciatively. "Now that's a surprise; a good news, bad news situation. Good news because being under Parker's wing gives you unprecedented access. I would've preferred you to have been assigned generic sweeper duty because the bad news is that being around Parker means high visibility and she'll probably keep you on a tight leash. Be careful. Don't underestimate her or anyone around her."

"I hear you. Her personal sweeper, Michael, wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of having me around. He looked thoroughly pissed off. "

"He probably thinks you're there to replace him—which you probably are but it's up to Parker when it happens and where you end up in the pecking order. Watch your back. Centre employees tend to be territorial."

Geoff nodded in agreement. "Territorial is putting it mildly. You're right, I think I'll be taking his place but I wasn't clear about what she intends on doing with him. Her assistant is a different kettle of fish. He's tough and looks it. I'll have my hands full with those two but it shouldn't be a problem."

"Good. Your position is risky but the benefits outweigh the drawbacks. How about you, Modesty? What are your first impressions of Dr. Thackery?"

"Not quite as positive as Geoff's unfortunately. He's an arrogant, male chauvinist with an over-inflated opinion of his own genius. He locks himself inside his office every day at 4:00 pm. That must be when he updates his patient charts. I wasn't able to hang around until he came out because that would've been too suspicious. I'm fairly sure the office is where he's hiding the charts. A twisted sense of privilege and exemption from the accepted rules of behavior and morality are something he believes holds true for doctors of his caliber. He really thinks it's his _right_ to experiment on whomever he wants," she replied with a shake of her head.

"We're about to reintroduce him to the harsher realities of the accepted rules, Modesty. At least we haven't had any nasty surprises yet. My meeting with Miss Parker went as expected. I got a good look at her 9mm and from the look on her face she was thrown completely off balance."

Geoff frowned slightly at this information which in turn, after a casual glance at her fellow operative, caused Modesty to study his expression with interest. It seemed that Miss Parker's beauty also gave her the ability to secure an unconscious kind of loyalty from the men around her. Modesty pondered this development while Jarod continued. "We're still on track with our timetable. You two should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a full day for the both of you."

The team was cautiously leaving the storefront, when Geoff paused and retrieved something from the messenger bag he was carrying. "I know looks aren't everything but this is from the gut, Jarod," he said solemnly as he handed a hardback book to the pretender. "She deserves better. I've never seen anyone with eyes that sad. Maybe I'm wrong but there's more going on with her than the superficial that her looks suggest but it doesn't necessarily follow that it has to be bad or worthless."

Jarod turned it over and looked at the book. "The Principles of a Successful Seduction" was a thin volume as Jarod's eyes stared hard at Geoff's face. The other returned the stare confidently. If there was one thing Geoff knew unequivocally, it was women and this one needed to have someone who cared—even if later on it turned out to be an illusion. Jarod was smart; he could work it out so she wouldn't be too hurt.

"Try some of the techniques in that book. If she's as bad as you say then changing tactics ought to throw her for a loop. If not, at least you would've distracted her from the pain in her eyes for a short time."

"You're a soft touch, Geoff," Jarod responded with a smile. Opening the book, he read one of the chapter leads that made his eyebrows rise incredulously. "But I doubt I'll get too far with this. Romancing Parker isn't part of the plan."

"Well it ought to be. What better way to keep her attention and focus directed at you?" The doubtful look on Jarod's face morphed into one of complete impassivity. "It's up to you of course. I just thought you should have an alternative approach on hand."

"Thanks, Geoff. I'll give it some thought," Jarod replied softly.

******__****The Centre  
Blue Cove, DE**

Thackery was in the middle of a heated argument with Cox. The Centre's resident physician was telling the geneticist that their target lab rat had flat out refused to have a physical. Due to this lack of access, Cox ordered an immediate suspension of further treatments. In his opinion, without being able to gauge the subject's current physical condition and balance the effects of the treatment against the last physical, Cox deemed it too dangerous to proceed. Moving on to Phase II could have similar devastating effects as the geneticist's last victims. The argument spilled into Raines' office. The result—the target would be ordered to submit forthwith. Cox's expression changed from irritation to incredulity.

"I honestly don't know what the fuss is all about. You have all this muscle and funds at your disposal. Since you aren't the target's private physician, then find out who is and burgle his office."

"Wonderful, we've progressed from conducting unauthorized, invasive genetic therapy on an unsuspecting patient to criminal burglary in order to obtain recent patient records. It's becoming difficult keeping up with the numerous felonies we keep committing," Cox stated rhetorically.

"It seems the target and I agree on something. Neither of us is impressed with your resume," Thackery huffed.

"Enough! I will assign the sweeper detail to obtain a copy of the target's medical records from the personal physician and bring them here tomorrow morning. Is that all, gentlemen?" the Chairman wheezed angrily.

Both men remained silent. They glared at each other and slowly left the office, neither wanting to give the other the opportunity to plead his case in front of the Chairman unchallenged. When they left, Raines sucked in several lungfuls of air. The two doctors were on the brink of coming to blows. Their target patient wasn't worth all the trouble. Relaxing in his chair, Raines called his personal sweeper, Willie to handle the situation with the updated medical records.

Modesty greeted the arrogant doctor in his office. His gaunt face was set angrily and his entire demeanor was that of petty spitefulness. This wasn't exactly the kind of portents she wanted. A brief search of his office yielded nothing more than a closer look at what Jarod had referred to as a burn bag. She didn't want to take any unnecessary chances. Heeding Jarod's advice, she decided that she should try to get a feel for where things were located in the office to avoid springing one of the booby traps she knew the doctor had set up in his own office. Talk about paranoia!

Thackery looked over at her as though surprised to see that she was still there. The woman was uncomfortably attractive, though Thackery wasn't particularly interested. Women were an enigma to him, something that could only distract him from his important work. In Thackery's mind, sex was only a by-product of success. Indulging in one before the other was achieved could only result in success delayed—his technique would remain a dream instead of a reality. Having just _one_ unqualified success with his breakthrough treatments would put him in position of power, where he could demand and obtain all the material and test subjects he needed for his research. When he had been forced to leave the country in disgrace, Thackery had to leave behind his close friend—a psychiatrist of some note. This friend was instrumental in psychologically evaluating the stability of the subjects undergoing treatment. Now he would need to depend on others for the psychological profiles he needed of the subjects. Thackery however wanted to include as few people in the sensitive areas of his research project as possible. The insufferable Dr. Cox had suggested using someone named Sydney for that portion of the program but Thackery wasn't too sure.

As thoughts of how to handle the psychological aspects of his experiment were pinging around in his head, an unexpected visitor chose this moment to walk into Thackery's inner office.

"So this is your idea of a genius at work? The common misconception that genius is messy and absent-minded never did track with me. A true scientist is meticulous in his work, has a place for every thing and everything in its place. Anything less would result in shoddy workmanship."

"What do you want? An hour's worth of your constant whining and pontification was about all I can take. Come back tomorrow when I'm in a better mood," Thackery replied in as nasty a tone as Modesty had ever heard. The visitor could be none other than Dr. Cox, though she had to admit that _his_ photo didn't do him justice. The man was gorgeous, his coloring was pale with a complexion that many women would've given their eye teeth for and his contrasting dark hair complete with the equally arresting blue eyes made her want to drool. The only thing that cooled her admiration was the disturbing look in his beautiful eyes. There was a hard, coldness in their expression that suggested he had seen the worst of himself and delighted in indulging his darker side. His smooth voice hinted at the vast wasteland of corruption that lay beneath his Dr. Jekyll visage.

Glancing at the purposely messy pile of paperwork spread out on his desk, the geneticist remembered that the woman claimed to be a board certified psychologist. That would have to do. He doubted this so-called assistant could see anything past her own self-help book/pop psychology education. If she looked to deeply then he knew a number of people in Africa who would be happy to eliminate her at the end of this assignment.

"You're first name is Jennifer, right?" he asked, ignoring Cox completely.

"Yes, Doctor. Would you like me to start sorting through the files on your desk?" she asked innocuously.

"Don't _ever_ touch my desk," he snarled brusquely. Switching focus to his own ambitions, he asked, "You _claim_ to be a psychologist. Well, I'm going to give you a chance to earn your place on my team. Reaching unfailingly into the second layer of stacked paperwork, the doctor pulled out a file, looked at it briefly to make sure it was the right one and handed it over.

"I need a full psychological profile on this person. Make special note of any strengths, weaknesses, motivations and potential goals. The challenge here is that you will not be allowed to conduct an in-person interview. That file is pretty thick. Go through it thoroughly and formulate your opinion from there."

Modesty allowed Thackery a glimpse of her feigned irritation at his snide remark about her abilities. Fortunately, her ego didn't depend on his opinion, a title or supercilious professional recognition. In her line of work, those commodities were hard to find. "Of course, doctor. I should be able to manage," Modesty commented quietly. When it became apparent Thackery had nothing further to add, Modesty stepped out.

Cox watched her leave, allowing his eyes to linger lasciviously on her backside. Thackery looked over at Cox and noticed where the other's attention was focused. He shook his head disparagingly but also spared an appreciative glance at Modesty's shapely bottom.

Modesty stepped into the outer office and opened the thick portfolio. Almost immediately, she snapped the portfolio shut in frustration. 95 of the first page had been blacked out to obscure the name or identity of the subject. This would make her job all that much more difficult. Drawing in a deep sigh, she flipped the thick sheaf of paperwork over and reviewed the treatment schedule of the patient. Nothing seemed out of place here but she discretely marked those areas of the schedule that she felt needed to be copied.

It was while she was in the thick of this that Dr. Cox emerged from Thackery's inner office. The look on his face spoke to his extreme dislike of the other physician.

"Hello."

"Jennifer. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Cox, with an X."

"Dr. Cox, you're the head of Centre Medical. It's an honor, sir."

"When you say it like that, it makes me sound old and stuffy. I assure you, I'm neither," he replied with smooth intent. "If you should ever need anything, please don't hesitate to look me up." He gave her a thin-lipped smile that stopped at his eyes.

"Thank you. I'll remember that." Modesty gave him her best smile and resisted the instinctive shiver of dread that ran through her. Getting next to him wouldn't be difficult but trying to seem as if she's interested would be her biggest challenge.

Once Cox left, Modesty returned to the front of the portfolio. There were no pictures and the blacked out portions were extensive. Sighing heavily, she started reading the file and despite the edited portions, Modesty soon found herself caught up in the psychological record in much the same way as most people find themselves drawn into the intrigue of a particularly interesting novel.


	7. Victim

**Disclaimer: **Please see Chapter 1 for the verbiage**  
**

**Mission  
Impossible**

**(Chapter 7  
Experimentation)**

**__****Parker residence  
Blue Cove, DE**

At the end of what turned out to be an exhaustive day, Parker was able to finally close her front door to the rest of the world. Walking further inside, she scooped up the correspondence that had dropped through the front mail slot, carried her laptop and bag to the consol behind her couch and deposited them there. Her mail was typically uninteresting, since all of it was addressed to resident or had no name at all. Utilities were all taken care of directly through the Centre and she paid cash for everything else. A brightly colored flyer advertising an estate sale caught her eye as a dark figure slowly emerged from the shadows behind her door.

Feeling a presence in the room with her, Parker glanced up and gave a small yelp and flinch in surprise. Before she should get a hand on her weapon, Jarod stepped forward and gripped her arm painfully.

"I'm tired of seeing that 9. It's me and no, I don't have any intention of hurting you. Calm down," he said with tired cynicism.

"Let go of me!" Parker growled angrily. "If you didn't make it a habit of sneaking up on me, then maybe I wouldn't need to draw it."

Smirking, he replied, "You've brandished it numerous times regardless of me sneaking up on you." Warily he released her arm and in returned received an angry glare but the 9mm remained holstered.

"I thought I told you the other day to stay gone. They don't know you're back. So, for both of our sakes, let's keep it that way."

"Yes, well, I've returned for a reason, one that involves the Centre."

"I also said that I don't care. We both agree that the Centre is the Big Bad Wolf and terrible things are done by them. Let's face it, the if they weren't around then the other Big Bad Wolves out there would gladly take their place in the limelight. Go away, enjoy your freedom. It's time to ride into the sunset and not come back, buckaroo."

"I want to talk, that's it. No games and no lies," he replied softly, wondering what a buckaroo was. The look of sudden interest graced and softened his features.

Parker looked at him curiously for a long moment. Then backing away slowly she picked up a pad from the low living room table and began writing. While she was doing that, a long forgotten memory resurfaced in Jarod's mind. It was something she had said long ago when they were children. _'Nobody ever wants to talk about what I want to talk about. Like what happens when you die?' _ The memory hit him hard. Those words had been uttered by his old friend and though this adult was a far cry from that little girl, Jarod acknowledged it was because of her that he even bothered reaching out to the adult.

Immersed in his thoughts, he noticed belatedly that Parker was staring at him. He tilted his head to one side when he saw the piece of paper she was holding out to him. Jarod glanced at the paper and then back into her eyes. Annoyance touched those grey orbs as she waved the paper impatiently. He did a lousy job hiding the smirk that sprang readily to his lips. Jarod liked annoying her. It added a fire to her eyes and color to her complexion that made her all the more attractive. Another glance allowed him to savor her irritation for another second before he took the note and opened it. She had inscribed an unfamiliar number on it. Her face was a study of impassivity.

"That's his new number. He'll be overjoyed to hear that you're back and if you force it, he won't tell a soul, either. Talk to your hearts content, just do me a favor and don't tell him you spoke to me" she finished dismissively.

To Jarod, her reaction was fully explained by his recent memory. Parker had long since given up on anyone talking to her about things she was interested in hearing. Their previously contentious relationship made true confidence virtually impossible. Perhaps he was letting his disappointment cloud his judgment.

Parker had walked over and sat on the couch, methodically spreading out documents she had brought with her from the office to work on at home. Jarod sat down on the chair adjacent to her seat and stretched the muscles in his back that had cramped up while he was waiting for her and then settled comfortably in the chair. His reward was another look of tired, put-upon irritation from his nemesis.

"If I wanted to speak to him, I know how to contact him. I want to talk and since I'm _here_, that means with you. Let's do something different and have a civil conversation and this time you pick the subject." Her expression was one he was only familiar with over the phone. It said, 'Leave me alone.' Instead of reacting he continued with, "Come on Parker, talk to me. You know I won't leave until you do. Tell me. What do you want to know, besides why I'm here? That part I'm not ready to reveal."

Parker narrowed her eyes suspiciously, wondering what game he was playing. Raising an eyebrow she decided the truth would get him on his feet and out the door faster than anything.

"You went to ground because of your family?" At his nod she waded in a little further. "Why are you here instead of with them? Aren't you still looking for your mother?"

Jarod smiled in acknowledgement to her reasonable curiosity. "Things didn't turn out the way I had hoped. I realized fairly early on that even if my family managed to find each other, the time for healing our wounds would be extensive. I never truly considered that the damage done would be too deep, almost irreparable."

"But you're mother, surely once you find her, she'll be the glue to hold all of you together," Parker whispered insistently.

"Catherine Parker was right, Ethan did find my mother and the relief of finding her, holding and talking to her again was immeasurable. I don't think I could describe it."

"I can imagine," Parker replied sincerely. There wasn't anything she wouldn't give to have another moment, an hour or day with her mother. "Why aren't you with her? Helping your family to heal and get beyond what the Centre has done? What about all the secrets she knew?"

Jarod nodded thoughtfully at her earnest question. This explanation wasn't something he wanted to delve into but he had let her choose the subject. How to explain that he too had hoped his mother would be the glue his fractured family needed to heal and stay together? But in having her back he and the others realized that their expectations were too much to ask for. Margaret was a strong, loving woman but she too had been deeply affected by what had happened to her family. To place that kind of burden on her small, thin shoulders was unfair. The Centre had insidiously taken more from his family than he had realized. All of them were skittish and had grown accustomed to being on the run and on the road. It was clear that they could no longer behave like a 'normal' family and some out-of-the-box thinking was in order. Money from his considerable personal accounts was used to purchase a large ranch home in a quiet, woodsy Indiana hamlet as a base for them to work from. None of his family was obligated to live there full time but it would serve as a place to light when wandering became tedious or too lonely. Jarod enjoyed looking for the place with his sister, Emily because it gave him some quality time to spend with her. It was her decision to live there permanently while she returned to her prior job as a journalist—this time freelance and under one of the pseudonyms she had created for herself. The boy, Martin would stay with her while she worked from home. Martin was prepping for University and was in the thick of things with test taking and fulfilling the tough benchmarks that had been set up for freshmen to meet. The major also stayed. Commuting would work for him since he was fortunate to find employment as a flying instructor at an airfield over 25 miles away. Ethan was a wandering soul who would go off on his own for weeks at a time only to show up unexpectedly. Jarod, though more communicative, was pretty much the same. Margaret found the Indiana base convenient. Though experiencing some great strides in her relationship with her husband, she floundered a while before finding a part-time job at a school for the developmentally challenged. She taught art and reading to the broken children caged within their own bodies. Margaret had no desire to dredge up the past and was less than forthcoming about some of the truths that lay behind the secrets and lies. When Jarod became frustrated and disappointed, the major stepped in and explained to Margaret why those answers were so important by sitting her in front of a DSA player and showing her their son's past. What she then told Jarod proved that the underpinnings of the Centre were even more ghastly than what he had begun to suspect after his ill-fated trip to Scotland.

It took the better part of the night to explain all this to Parker. He could tell from her face that he had her unwavering attention. So he sank deeper in his comfortable chair and fully enjoyed an evening with an old friend.

**__****The Centre**  
**_Blue Cove, DE_**

**—****Main mezzanine**

The sleepless night had left Parker exhausted but emotionally charged. She knew that Jarod had just scratched the surface last night. What perked her up was that he seemed inclined to tell her more. She was definitely interested and hoped that he would get around to telling her the rest. Despite this, fatigue tried to cling to her very bones. It also made her far more sensitive than she would've liked. There were times, especially when she was physically tired, when the voices seemed to make themselves known more. Today was one of those times. Now they were droning on about not going to her office. The last time this occurred, no one was there and all seemed normal. She ignored the warning and was in and about the office all day. When she woke the next morning the voices were quiet replaced by a massive headache, dizziness and the chills, all the symptoms of a nasty flu. None of the over-the-counter drugs she took helped any. Eventually, most of the symptoms eased, except for the headaches, they were persistent. Today, she was getting similar messages as before. Wondering if there was something going on that she should know about, Parker headed over to Broot's office. Perhaps he had some answers or could closely monitor the DSA records for the day. She couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding but felt silly because there was no evidence to support it.

**__****Level 2  
Special Development Section**

Modesty had read the fascinating psychological record from cover to cover. It told the tale of a person who by all accounts should've been declared a psychological disaster zone by puberty. Instead, the person managed to keep a strong grip on reality but emotional fissures inevitably began to appear. Whoever this person was, the added burden of whatever this egomaniac wacko had in mind was not what the shrink ordered. With that thought, she began to prepare a psychological profile of the person. Key points that she felt were important were purposely left out but that didn't seem to be enough. Looking at the corporate directory, Modesty spotted a department that seemed to fit her needs—psychological services. Having committed most of the salient points of the file to memory, Modesty got up and decided to take a walk. Perhaps someone there could give her the skinny on Thackery's wackery. The not-so-good doctor didn't come into his office until after 9 o'clock but insisted that she get there by 8. She had immediately spotted the 3 booby traps on his desk and getting past them was no trouble but yielded no results. Going on this little walk would further familiarize her with the Centre and hopefully give her a chance to find a department burn bag where she could dispose of the doctor's real records once she found them.

**__****Main Level**  
**_Security Division_**

Geoff arrived at work to find his boss wasn't in yet. That was different. For the past couple days, she was there at her desk when he arrived already several hours immersed in paperwork. Left at loose ends, Geoff entered the office tentatively and looked around curiously. He had no compunction to search the office. Whatever she was up to, Barney and Jonas would relay the details before they became a problem. He sat down on one of the guest chairs and looked around wondering when she would get in. Finally boredom took over and Geoff came to a decision. Remy would know where to find their boss. Getting up, he looked around one more time before giving up to find Parker's lieutenant. Once that was done, Geoff decided to take a walk past Thackery's office to get a better feel of the actual layout.

* * *

Miss Parker watched her new sweeper peek around and then take a seat. He waited another 15 minutes for her to show before giving up and leaving. Wondering where he was going, she tracked the sweeper's movements all the way to Remy's office. Apparently he thought she might be hiding out there. This guy was good and was showing more potential than the usual sweeper. And he didn't eat any of the candies she kept on her desk, a definite improvement.

By the end of the day, Parker was thoroughly exhausted and no one else had dared to venture into her sanctuary. The voices for the most part had been quiet, so she decided it would be safe to clean up the loose ends of the day and leave. Her plan was to be in her office no more than a few minutes since the second she neared it, they began chanting warnings at her again. All this did was make her try to hurry through the few things she had left to do. That was a mistake. An odorless mist seeped into the air the second she entered. By the time Parker sat down in her desk chair to organize her files, she was rendered unconscious.

Deftly stealing into the office, Dr. Thackery partially opened the door and aimed a small device at the DSA recorder in the room. Once he was assured the patient was safely asleep, he fully entered the room followed closely by one of Raines' personal sweepers. Both men were wearing breathing masks which protected them from the effects of the mist. Without a word, the sweeper turned off the lights in case a passing employee decided to stop by. While the sweeper guarded the door, the doctor approached the sleeping woman. He didn't need to have a close look at her to know that she was beautiful. No sympathy touched his heart as he took out a small package and unrolled it revealing a couple hypodermics. Skillfully, he chose an instrument, brushed the thick hair aside and poised the long needle over the back of the patient's exposed neck. In a smooth gesture, he skillfully inserted the needle through skin and muscle until he reached the brain stem and released his latest potion. He was convinced that she was concealing the symptoms he had benchmarked to Dr. Cox. With this concoction, concealment wouldn't be possible. Her records showed that she was basically healthy and had recently visited her personal physician complaining of flu-like symptoms. It was enough for Cox to lift the suspension of treatment.

At the moment Thackery was injecting his gene re-sequencing concoction, Parker's subconscious was reacting. Though asleep, her mind was still active and aware of her vulnerability. The memory of her mother squeezing her tightly in a hug that made her feel safe, loved and comforted, flooded into her subconscious thoughts.

Phase II was the critical juncture of his treatment plan and the most problematic. Thackery's brilliance was in successfully mimicking a particular chemical the brain naturally produced, the chemical made sure his liposome vector could easily be accepted by the body and be allowed to do it's work unimpeded. Using the patient's own DNA to finalize the genetic structure of the re-sequencing compound was a detail Thackery thought best to keep to himself. Without that detail his therapy would never work quite as well as it did. What Thackery didn't take into consideration was the altering effects of his induction chemical on the patient's physiology. It was only when the one patient's behavior changed so dramatically that he realized psychology might play an important role. A psychiatrist friend, whose help Thackery enlisted, was about to tell him of his findings when they had both been indicted. The friend was arrested and faced harsh reprimands for being associated with Thackery's work but had been spared any jail time. Unfortunately, all his notes relating to his contributions to Thackery's research had been destroyed. The psychiatrist, frightened by the sudden pounding and angry shouts of the federal agents outside his door, summarily set the bulk of his own brilliant research ablaze—which also turned out to be the key witness to his collusion. Since all communication between the doctors had been permanently terminated there was no way for Thackery to know the weaknesses in his assumptions and that the Centre's application of his treatments was perfectly in line with what his friend had never been able to tell him.

Though he had made adjustments to the chemical, Thackery had failed to conduct proper research on its effects because he was in a rush for his gene therapy to work. Which it did, unfortunately, the chemical continued to have a profound effect on the hypothalamus. The significant side-effect of the therapy was the pressure it caused in the brain. Only a particular counterbalancing chemical produced by the brain could relieve the pressure. In Parker, the moment the altered chemical affected her hypothalamus, her subconscious was reacting to the threat. This juxtaposition created her unique release response to Thackery's chemicals. What made this so egregiously criminal was Thackery's knowledge that he wouldn't know what the patient's particular release response would be until either they revealed it themselves or someone close to them discovered it. This left it up to the patient to realize what was needed to relieve the pressure the altered chemical imposed on their brain before it became impossible to deal with. Their only alternative was violence, which universally would render a measure of relief but nothing like the trigger release created by their own personalities.

Withdrawing the second needle, Thackery smiled coldly. Stifling the immune system was necessary so the body's natural defenses would be too weakened to interrupt the re-sequencing process by attacking his formulated agents. This immune suppressant would insure the woman would begin to call in sick and the notations from her physician would change from healthy to running a battery of tests to discover the cause of her sudden symptoms. By that time, Thackery would be finished with this patient and the Centre would have living proof of his genius.

Another innovation the doctor used was the drug to render his target patient unconscious. She wouldn't remember falling asleep. All that the patient would be aware of is the loss of time. Carefully, Thackery sat her upright in her chair and held on to her until she would stay without falling over again. When he was assured she was situated correctly, the doctor sprayed a fine mist in her face and then hurried to exit. It was the sweeper who remembered to turn the lights back on.


	8. Manipulations

**_Disclaimer:_** Please see Chapter 1 for the usual stuff.  
**_Author's Note:_** An additional week was needed to make this chapter what it should be. Thanks for reading.

**Mission  
Impossible**

******(Chapter 8  
Unexpected results)**

**__****The Centre  
Blue Cove, DE**

His assignment was such a demanding one that required him to conduct surveillance in various parts of the Centre and finding the underground access tunnel he would use to usher Thackery from his protective haven. This reconnaissance, of course, had the added benefit of getting others in the habit of seeing him near places where normally he shouldn't be. Ever cognizant of his role in the final piece of this drama, Geoff watched carefully and learned as much as he could about the routines and schedules involving the sweepers details assigned to guard Thackery's floor and the loading dock areas. He took care to watch how the crates and other larger packages were handled by the staff and how closely they were inspected. Using a foam latex mask, he created the face on one of the alternate ID's Jonas had supplied him. Everything went smoothly as Geoff successfully navigated his way through the Centre without being recognized as Parker's newest sweeper. Never one to waste an opportunity, Geoff found Thackery's private rooms and after thoroughly searching for the patient charts, he carefully planted the electronics Barney cooked up for the good doctor's sole benefit. Once this was done, Geoff decided to take every opportunity to work out and build on his already considerable strength and dexterity. The little pills Jonas had developed for his weightlifting hobby had quickly become a staple in his regimen. According to Jonas, they were potent vitamins and amino acids designed to reduce the body's vulnerability to infections after prolonged and strenuous exercise. Since almost everyone on the team engaged in some type of strength training; Jonas' potion had become extremely popular. When Geoff reported in a couple nights later, he found Jarod reading the book he had given him. It raised Geoff's hopes that Control would treat Miss Parker with a little more care than he had originally planned.

"So what do you think about the book?"

"It's very interesting. A very cynical take on how to seduce another person, get them to agree to have intimate relations with you and then dump them leaving a mess a more sensitive person would feel guilty about."

Geoff shoulders drooped at this harsh critique of his romantic bible. So far the book had landed him more women than the use of clever or tired lines ever did. True faith in the results bolstered Geoff's spirits once again.

"I don't care what you say, it works. But tell me, have you found anything in there that just might help you win her over? Any truths?" he asked with a knowing smile.

"Here's one paragraph that caught my attention. '_The most effective way to lead the seduced along and keep the upper hand is to create suspense by use of calculated surprise._ _Give the _victim_ a thrill with a sudden change of direction._'

Victim? By the tone of this book, the victim and the seduced are one in the same. If that isn't cynical than what is?"

"Just try it. All the rest is just semantics to give the reader a sense of their true power. Not all of us are all that lucky in love. We have to take what we can get."

"I wouldn't have thought that to be a problem for you," Jarod replied in mild surprise.

"I know. Everyone around here thinks I'm just a philandering ass trying to pollinate as many women as possible." A look of longing shaded his features for a few seconds as he added, "I wouldn't mind finding someone I could share my life with. You know, having someone who would give me a reason to leave this dirty business. I'm tired of living like a 'short-tailed spy'.

"Short-tailed spy? What does that mean?"

"You've never heard it? I'm surprised. It's an old commie reference to a spy who has no family, no wife and no relatives who could be used as leverage against him if he decided to go rogue. They were deemed more of a risk and highly expendable."

A steady stare was Jarod's response as his attention turned inwards for a few seconds, recognizing Geoff's loneliness. Jarod knew the ins and outs of that particular ailment. The fact that he was still haunted with a less crippling form of loneliness still surprised him. For most of his life, he had convinced himself that once he found his family and was able to bring them back together, that the pervasive loneliness he dealt with since childhood would ease up and then break. It did ease but it never did completely leave him alone. In desperation, he turned to women, much like Geoff. The result was a string of affairs and deeply dissatisfying relationships that emotionally went as far as the barkeep's door and ended either frustratingly or mercifully. Later, his father perceptively informed him that what he was going through was commonly referred to as a mid-life crisis. Younger women left him dissatisfied with either insipid conversation, vacuous goals or were so driven that he soon was left choking on their dust. Hardly the stuff a foundation of trust and confidence could be built on. Jarod applied his genius by quickly discerning the futility of his efforts and stopping immediately. Once that was done, the loneliness abated to the gentle roar it previously beset upon him.

"Modesty is still trying to find out where the doctor is hiding his files. I've searched the Scientific Development database but so far I haven't been able to find anything other than Dr. Cox's critique of the procedure. Even his references are vague," Jarod replied after a delicate pause as he changed the subject.

"I finished planting Barney's equipment in the doctor's bedroom, so we're all set on that front. Tonight, I'll be doing some reconnaissance and will make sure the escape route is still in place. I've got a better feel of the place. Did you know the latest Centre craze is a cute, little fuzzy toy? Those things are all over the place and more importantly, I'm told they're shipped in large crates that come into the loading dock area late at night when most of the drones have gone home. They're expecting another shipment, so I'll stop by and check things out. I think those crates are just what the doctor ordered."

"Good, just be careful." Jarod replied with approval. Jonas and Barney joined them and Jarod continued with the update. "The doctor has given Modesty a file on one of the patients he's experimenting on. He wants her to come up with a profile to anticipate the person's reaction to the gene re-sequencing."

"Does she have any idea where we can find this person? A name or address?" Jonas asked.

"All the relevant information had been blacked out but she has reason to believe that the patient actually works for the Centre. There were references in the file that pointed to the fact."

"Then if one of the guinea pigs works at the Centre, it's a good bet that the others do as well. I'm guessing this treatment isn't exactly covered in the employee health plan," Barney stated acerbically.

"After working at a place like that, I guess no one will care that I saved a couple hundred bucks by switching my auto insurance," Jonas said with a straight face. He drew a couple appreciative chuckles from the group.

"What about Miss Parker? Where are you on that front?" Barney asked trying to shake off his gravity.

"I'll visit her again tonight while Geoff gives the doctor's office another look. Don't forget to check the floor. That's where they hide their personal safes," Jarod advised.

**_The Centre – Psychological Services Division_  
**_**Blue Cove, DE** _

Modesty walked into a large room. There were no windows and the huge vents had equally large fans gently swirling behind them. It reminded her of a scene out of a comic strip. Everything about the place seemed a bit larger than life. At the opposite end and across the wide expanse was a large office with glass panels in front. The entire area was mutely lit—there was nothing bright and cheerful about the place at all. No one was inside the office from the looks of it but Modesty's curiosity carried her further into the strange room. Her footsteps echoed eerily as she made her way down some steps and across the open expanse.

"May I help you?"

Unable to avoid flinching, Modesty turned at the pleasantly accented voice. His tone was masculine and gave the unmistakable impression of control and strength. Before her stood an elderly man, slightly stooped in age but not in presence. He was tall with a thinning mane of white hair, handsome features and piercingly curious eyes. Like many handsome men, the wrinkles in his face added more character than age.

"Hello, umm yes, you can. I'm looking for someone named Sydney. I was told that he is in charge of the Psychological Services Division. I'm not sure if I'm in the right place."

A gentle smile eased the hard expression in his face. Her intrusion had only been partially explained. Modesty found that most of the employees at the Centre had a strange territorial possessiveness about their jobs and work areas.

"Yes, you are and I am he. How can I be of assistance?"

"Oh, umm," Modesty replied a tad bit disappointed and blushed at her obvious tone. Her experience with elderly colleagues usually included entrenched habits and closed minds. "I apologize doctor. You're not what I expected," she replied with a conscious smile. "My name is Jennifer and I'm Dr. Thackery's new assistant. I was hoping I could enlist your help with a psychological profile. You know the saying, 'Two psychiatrists are better than one especially if you have an HMO'".

Very little got past Sydney's trained observation. He caught her tone of disappointment, her admirably smooth recovery and the covering joke. The psychiatrist inclined his head regally and extended his arm towards the stairs leading to the office. "No need to apologize. Why don't you step into my office?"

Modesty watched carefully while the psychiatrist fetched her a cup of tea from a stylish insolated carafe. There was something familiar about the way he moved and responded to her but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Sensing a quick plunge was the way to go, she came out directly and began to verbally sketch out the problem at hand. By the time she was finished, her tea was half gone and Sydney was staring at her with increasing interest.

"Tell me Jennifer, are you a trained psychiatrist?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. Why do you ask?"

"You speak in terms and with a measure of confidence mixed with an inquisitiveness that my students have yet to achieve. You must be very good," he replied with a small smile.

The puzzled smile on her face showed brilliantly. Rubbing her forehead in confusion, she inclined her head in response with an added, "Thank you." For such an old fart, he was somehow very attractive.

Sydney noted her puzzled discomfort with another sly smile. She was far better at reading people than anyone he knew save Jarod. "Now back to your analysis. It would seem that your doctor is trying to determine a possible causal basis for certain anticipated behavior. My guess is that he's using a particular type of psychotropic drug that has some nasty side-effects."

Modesty's eyes widened with respect and surprise. Without knowing the particulars of the doctor's genetic re-sequencing, she wouldn't have been able to come up with that conclusion. "That's very perceptive of you doctor."

"Not really. Dr. Cox dropped off a similar file at my office late last night. He briefed me on only the outlines of the research. Do you have any ideas on the scope of this research?"

Anger shaded her eyes for a brief second when she answered. "It's not exactly research unless you mean the people we've been given to profile are considered guinea pigs. The identity of the subjects has been either blacked out or removed. But make no mistake; this so-called research is being conducted as we speak."

The psychiatrist sat up straight in his chair and looked over at the comely woman. "What? From what Cox told me the procedure they were considering is highly experimental. He wants to know the possible effects on the patient's emotional stability."

Completely agreeing with Sydney's dismay, Modesty felt she should keep the extent of her knowledge secret. "Dr. Thackery is very secretive about his treatment. But I'm certain, from some of the things he's said, that he is actively administering the therapy on human subjects. My purpose for being here is to get input from another, more experienced colleague. I'm doing this mainly for the patient's sake. Personally, I don't agree with experimenting on people until the course of treatment has been properly evaluated and examined by other means and by other doctors."

"This is madness, utter madness!!" Sydney replied fiercely. For a few seconds he forgot about his young colleague and became immersed in his own thoughts. Anger and disgust marked his distinguished features as he murmured audibly, "This has to stop. It will stop!!"

"Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything…" Modesty started concerned by Sydney's vehemence.

"No. Thank you for being so candid," he replied in a calmer voice. Recalling her reason for being there, he asked, "Please tell me the identifying markers of the personality you're dealing with. Perhaps we can come up with a sketch of the person that will somehow protect them and thwart the doctor."

"That's what I was hoping for and also…if it wouldn't compromise anything, perhaps we could examine each other's files. Perhaps we'll find something that the other overlooked.

**__****The Centre**  
_**Level 1 - South Wing  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Last night it happened again. She fell asleep in her office sitting straight up in her chair. Sudden and almost paralyzing fear clutched at her heart. With shaking legs, she finished what she had started and left as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the following morning, all the symptoms she had before seemed to have doubled. Sneezing, coughing and chills with a pounding head assaulted her senses and abilities. Not wanting to raise any eyebrows, she called Sam to have him pick her up at home—driving was out of the question. The day progressed sluggishly and promised to be nothing but tedious until the Financial Director accosted her as she was trying to escape her twin. Lyle was making another futile attempt to spend some quality family time in the previously deserted hallway by yammering on aimlessly and causing the headache already building from behind her eyes to increase in intensity.

"Miss Parker, Mr. Lyle, I'm glad to have run into you!" he stated with a curiously fixated smile plastered on his fleshly face.

"That makes one of us," Parker responded softly, with a weary sigh that resounded loudly in the otherwise empty hallway.

Lyle realized any chance he had of speaking to her about genuinely forming an alliance had passed and suddenly wished he were elsewhere so he could regroup and strategize further. Nodding curtly at the intruder and his guest, Lyle was about to make an escape of his own. "Speaking of running, I've gotta see a man about a portfolio."

Ignoring both of them, the finance director hurriedly continued, "May I introduce the new manager of Project Financing, Mr. Leary. This is Miss Parker, Director of Centre Security and Mr. Lyle, Director of Operations." The introduction was wound up with a tacit, "Ta-Da!" as the new manager stepped forward to be presented.

The twins for the first time in their lives had nearly identical reactions and expressions: shock. The man standing before them had more than a passing resemblance to a man adored by one and whose death was facilitated by the other. Lyle had heard of the man's appearance but hadn't yet actually seen him up close.

If she hadn't known better the new manager could've passed for Tommy's brother. Parker paled as she stared at the man but remained mute. Another shock was on the way. Lyle helped her out by taking point and stuck out his hand to greet the Centre's newest addition, smoothly covering for his stricken twin. Belatedly, Parker nodded mutely and moved away after staring hard for several seconds.

Once they were out of earshot of the two men, Parker paused and turned around to find the Tommy look-a-like staring back at her. Quietly, still in shock, she said to Lyle, "Something nasty is going on and from the stench of it, this has Raines' name written all over it."

"He's the only one who could manage coming up with something this creepy. There's a tune playing and Raines thinks your going to dance to it." Lyle remarked quietly, completely agreeing with his sister. His interest was purely selfish. Whatever was aimed at Parker, he didn't want turned on himself.

"My puppet days are long gone. He's got another thing coming if he thinks I'm falling for this bull," she replied while still staring after the look-a-like.

Lyle noticed the direction of her gaze and responded with heavy sarcasm. "Really? Well your tongue is hanging out of your mouth. Snap out of it, Raines' been pissed off that we haven't fallen on our faces and he's gunning for the both of us. This is just the first salvo. There's more coming and the more we know what he's up to the better."

Finally turning her attention back to Lyle, Parker replied, "The day you're genuinely concerned about me is the day….wait a second, there is no such day. Spare me you advice. I can take care of myself."

She turned on her heel and left Lyle staring disdainfully in her perfumed wake.

* * *

Finally back at home, she could relax. Dragging herself through the front door, she leaned against it for a few moments before deciding on moving forward. If she didn't, Parker knew she would collapse where she stood. Throwing her things with what felt like her last vestiges of strength onto the console, Parker took a few steps towards the couch before being forced by the pain in her head to stop. 

Jarod watched her come in, hardly noticing the state she was in. He was more concerned with the pressures of his current op, the inextricable slowness of finding out information without the Centre knowing about it and his own self-disgust of being attracted to a woman who wanted nothing to do with him. This confluence of frustration, anger and fascination made him act on impulse. He would prove to Geoff that the techniques from his stupid little book would never work.

The pretender glanced over at his victim and saw her rubbing her temples. Soundlessly he crept up to her, sneaking around yet again. The last thing he wanted was another look at her 9mm. He noticed her eyes were closed and the veins in her forehead were bulging. His impetus was interrupted by concern and just as she was becoming aware of his presence, she looked up only mildly surprised. That was enough for Jarod. Without thinking it through, he stepped close behind her and before she had a chance to react, he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides and encasing her in a long, tight hug.

The ulterior motive he had for doing this was primarily to irritate Parker. Jarod was well aware of her aversion to being touched. Since reacquainting himself with her, there had been a few clues to this dislike.

Parker wasn't terribly surprised by Jarod because the pain was almost too much. It was the piercing agony accompanied strangely by a suffocating pressure that seemed to stem from her frontal lobe. The symptoms were horrific and she had no idea of how to alleviate them or to think clearly enough about what to do. After Jarod wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, there was a section of her mind that was indignant about him preventing her from reaching her weapon. On the other hand, the second he started squeezing, the pressure began to leak away. The releasing relief kept her eyes closed.

When Jarod wasn't met with any resistance, and felt her relax in his arms he squeezed a little harder before releasing her. The only reaction from his testy former-huntress was a small, unhappy-sounding release of her breath in response. That would have to do. Gently, he released her and then stepped back cautiously, watching to see if she still tried reaching for her 9mm.

Parker turned and stared at Jarod in complete confusion. She was ticked off over what he had done but knew well enough that his motivation was keeping her from her weapon. In order to turn things around on him, she resolved to swallow her pride and not to act as he expected. But the expression on her face wasn't unlike the way she would look when he just barely escaped her clutches during their 5 year chase. The sudden relief he provided left her silently thankful but reluctant to acknowledge any weakness.

"What are you doing here?"

Smirking at her irritated tone of voice he replied with smooth sarcasm, "I felt like another talk but I wanted to make sure you weren't tempted into pointing anything at me."

A sudden violent sneeze prevented a quick comeback. A couple more sneezes and an involuntary shiver later, Parker waved him away weakly and headed towards the kitchen. Despite her symptoms, she was still hungry and hadn't had a chance to grab something to eat.

Jarod watched her curiously and followed. She was looking very ill all of a sudden and the more he looked at her, the more worried he became. Silence enveloped the kitchen as Parker opened her freezer, took out a plastic rectangular container and slid it into the microwave as she activated the controls.

"I'm tired and I don't feel good. Go bug Sydney tonight, Jarod." With that she left the kitchen.

When he heard her go into her bedroom, he stopped the microwave and prying open the lid peered inside. The smell of the half heated food was enticing. Stomach rumbling in anticipation, he replaced her container and examining the freezer, he saw it contained several more plastic containers. There seemed to be a system going on but without any labels on the outside, he didn't know what it was and didn't particularly care at the moment. He reached on the same side as she had, took out an identical container and slid it next to the other. Increasing the time by a few increments, Jarod waited hungrily for the food to heat.

By the time Parker returned, Jarod had already tucked into one of the containers and was already heating up a second. Looking up, he slid the delicious food into his cheek so he could talk.

"This is very good. Yours is right there," he nodded to the perfectly arranged food on the plate.

"I'm not getting rid of you tonight, am I?" she asked resignedly. She was too tired and felt too lousy to put up much of a fight.

"I didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled your dinner. I decided to help myself," he paused as she passed him by and he noticed a fine sheen of sweat on her brow. "What's wrong? Have you caught a cold?"

"I feel like crap," came the simple reply.

Genuine concern coursed through him. Jarod's natural empathy had been enhanced by Sydney's exploitation of his pretender gifts. Smoothly his exemplary mind went through a plethora of possible remedies that he had with him. Nothing came to mind until he remembered Jonas' workout pills. Jarod got up from his seat, poured Parker a cup of tea and rummaging though his bag, he found half a bottle of the pills.

"I didn't bring anything with me but the tea should help you sleep. The pills are vitamins but they should build up your immune system to help fight off both the symptoms and the cause."

Parker stared at the tablets. At a loss for what to do about her symptoms, she stared at Jarod for several seconds, and then figuring she had nothing to lose, she popped them in her mouth and washed them down with the tea. As Jarod began on the second container, he started chatting amiably about nothing too important or challenging. He kept her excellent company until she retired to bed.


	9. Sick at last!

**Disclaimer: ** Please see Chapter 1 for the usual stuff  
**Author's Note:** I tried to post this earlier but the site wouldn't let me.

**Mission  
Impossible**

******(Chapter 9  
Results)**

**__****Clarke Annex**  
**_Dover, DE_**

Remy was concerned. His boss was in a bad way but refused help from anyone or to go to the Centre's infirmary. At first he thought she might be trying to cover up a hard night's drinking. Though he had never seen her imbibe personally, he had heard rumors. But upon closer inspection, the heavy coat on a warm day, the deep seated cough that rattled in her chest, fevered brow and obvious headache pointed to one nasty cold. He would've preferred if it were a hard night's drinking. She needed to unwind and for the past few days she seemed more tense than ever before.

Parker sat in the overly warm Town Car and leaned wearily against the headrest. She had thrown in the towel when it came to hiding the way she was feeling from Remy. However, another in a long series of meetings were about to get underway for the scheduled upgrades to security that she had championed. A couple days ago, she was looking forward to seeing her brain-child come into fruition. Today, all she wanted was her warm bed and hot water bottle. Painfully opening her eyes, the sun was beaming relentlessly on the dark car. She didn't need to glance at Remy to guess that the poor man was probably sweating in the unseasonable heat.

"I'm feeling lousy today. Must be coming down with the flu or something," she mumbled in apology. Then a vague memory of the analgesic her doctor prescribed floated into her head. At her feet sat her purse which she pulled to her lap and began blindly rummaging through. The clink of pills made her breathe an appreciative sigh of thanks.

"Go in and stall them, give me a few minutes to pull myself together. I don't want anyone to know I'm under the weather."

"You got it, _cher_," Remy acknowledged firmly as he alighted from the car. A quick glance back and he could see her taking some pills. At least she was taking something for what ailed her. When he reached the shop door, Remy courteously held the door of the curio shop open for two chatty elderly ladies as they exited. He greeted the shopkeeper/sweeper, who guarded the entrance to the data annex and conference room stairway that was concealed in the back.

"Business picking up?" he asked jokingly.

"Don't start," the sweeper responded with an answering smile. "Those fuzzy toys are going like hotcakes. I've already put in an order for more of them with the warehouse and those two gals bought 4 of them just now. If we start a franchise, we would be making millions."

Once she was alone, Parker took out the small bottle and shaking out two of the pills she looked around for something to drink. Remy had left some bottled water on his side of the car. Unable to retain any semblance of fussiness, she grabbed the bottle and downed the pills. Shakily she got out of the car and faced the comforting heat of the day. Behind the shades protecting her eyes, she scanned the area around her. Without being obvious, she noticed a dark complexioned man trying hard not to stare at her. What had caught her attention was his air of worried vigilance. Licking her lips and bringing a trembling hand to her mouth she took a deep cleansing breath. The pills were having an immediate affect on her as the clouds of inhibiting cotton began to clear from her mind. With another deep breath, and push from the car, she steadily followed Remy and put on a performance that any pretender would've admired.

**__****The Centre**  
**_Blue Cove, DE_**

Thackery was ecstatic. Even though the Parker woman hadn't called in sick, he did something very reckless. He sought her out to spy on her condition and was elated to see the pallor in her face, the sweat on her brow and the slight tremor in her hand as she reached out to open her office door. It wasn't much but it was far better than his other results. He was hungry and eager for more but it seemed this was all he would get from the woman. She should've been bed-ridden. The amoral doctor scratched at his clean shaven cheek and wondered. Perhaps he had underestimated her immune system? He was tempted to push up the timeline to give her another dose but held back. Raines had all but threatened that if anything went wrong with this subject that the doctor should concentrate more on breathing than experimenting. A slight sensation of being thwarted clung to his elation. He decided to go forward with the other subject. This time he requested that the patient be monitored at all times. It was important to conduct this trial in as much of a controlled environment as possible. That way when unpleasant surprises occurred, they could be isolated, examined and dealt with quickly. Without thinking, Thackery made his way over to the Chairman's office and was immediately ushered inside. The conversation he walked in on had been abruptly interrupted by his presence. Looking up, Thackery spotted his biggest critic, Dr. Cox.

"I can tell by the looks on your faces that you've seen her. Her symptoms are what I was looking for and proof that the therapy is hard at work," Thackery hedged smoothly.

"You said that she would be unable to get out of bed. So far, I've seen her traipsing around the Centre with nothing worse than a head cold. That's hardly definitive proof. Spiking her food would've had the same effect. This isn't quite the thumping success you promised," Cox replied.

"You thick-headed imbecile, any idiot with a flu strain could've done that but it's the _type_ of illness she's suffering from that tells me the therapy is working. The viral vector is having its effects, which means that her immune system has been successfully compromised. The virus has released its payload of gene altering liposomes and as long as she continues to be ill, my treatment is free to do its work. I'm sure that her symptoms will begin to worsen as the hours tick by and her immune system begins to falter," Thackery stated as he counted off his key points on his fingers.

"We'll see doctor. When will you need access to her again? We need to be careful so that she'll never think to suspect us," Raines asked breathily.

"It depends on how well she responds to this last injection but I would say to give it another week before the last stage of this particular phase is complete. I'm ready to begin on the second subject."

"Good, then get started. The quicker we get this over with the faster we can get back to business," Raines replied dismissively, effectively communicating his doubts that Thackery's efforts would yield any results.

* * *

Parker had been incredible at the meeting. Every sentence and glare was delivered with the expected mixture of confidence and measured arrogance. The second she strolled into the conference room, she had the stakeholders watching and listening with baited breath. Thumping success didn't quite describe her performance. It was all Remy could do not to sport the large grin of admiration from seizing control over his face. When they were once again in the car, Parker relaxed then retrieving the bottled water she kept from the meeting, took more pills from her purse and leaned back in the seat. 

Remy watched her swallow the pills like they were a miracle drug. She had closed her eyes, slumped down wearily in her seat and seemed oblivious to anything else. With some stealth, he took the crinkly gift shop bag and tried to hide it under his seat.

"We're supposed to let the schmucks and tourists buy that garbage. What good is it if Centre employees keep picking up knick-knacks? I can hear the old Weezer hissing now, 'Miss Parker, every employee already has those stupid furry animals on their desks! Don't you know it interferes with the oppressive atmosphere we're trying to maintain?"

"That little toy is very popular not to mention cute. It'll be interesting to see if it becomes the East Coast Elmo for Christmas. I overheard Mr. Lyle chastising Willie for having one. He's envious because you designed it."

"Figures an idea I threw together off the top of my head would start making a profit. I literally couldn't have done it if I tried," she replied self-depreciatingly with her eyes steadfastly closed. Remy glanced over at her but remained silent.

He had long since recognized that Parker hadn't come close to thoroughly stretching her intellectual muscles. The why could only be her father's tyrannical demands and domineering control over her life. Remy had never met the man but the stories he had been told were graphically informative.

The furry toy she so-called threw together was a tremendous hit. The curio shops the security division ran as fronts had needed a new item. The shops themselves drew in a miniscule profit at best but most were running at a loss. They needed something new to lift sales in order to justify their existence. By tradition, the Security Director would rubber stamp just about anything Marketing offered. Remy had been there when she was presented with a clay model of the toy. It was ordinary and uninteresting. Once Parker got her little hands on it, she kneaded and remolded its shape while continuing her conversation in Chinese with the Hong Kong affiliate. After the conversation was concluded, she handed the green thing back to the product development hack who had brought it in and gave him specific instructions. 'Put buttery-soft maroon fur all over it and make sure it's 7 inches tall with an oversized head.' Even then, the design engineer major glanced from her, back to the remodeled toy and frowned. Weeks later the toys were on limited display at all the Centre's East Coast curio shops. The fact that tourists had found it first was proof enough. Being that they had found it only a few hours after the first shipments had reached the Centre's store fronts was a testament to her gifts. As a follow up, Parker had smartly merchandised the little furry critters across the Centre's network of nationwide annexes which had store front shops concealing them. Fortunately they had patented the little critter, resulting in Remy having his hands full with requests that flowed through the Centre's merchandising department to its security division looking for more of the toys. Remy figured it would only be a matter of a few weeks before Parker was promoted as director of _that_ division as well.

"I wanted one for my little niece back home."

"Did you get her one with the t-shirt?"

"You had 'em put t-shirts on them? Damn, no I didn't get one of those."

"I ordered a new shipment last month. They should arrive in the next day or two, grab one for her," Parker replied laconically.

"No offense, but Merchandizing won't let anyone, and ah mean _anyone_ nea(r) those shipments. Even the sweepers are warned to guard them wi't their lives," he replied, allowing his accent to gently rearrange his pronunciation. After a short pause, from which he received no comment from the toy's creator, Remy continued, "The ones wi't the t-shirts, does it say "The Centre" on the front?"

"Just 'Centre' with our logo. I'll have Merchandizing personally deliver 1 of them to you," she replied with a yawn.

"Could you make that two?"

**__****Parker residence**  
**_Blue Cove, DE_**

Parker had Remy drop her off at home rather than return to the Centre. She was in no shape to face her office and the exhausting demands of her position. Her condition was rapidly deteriorating as the analgesic's effects began to wear off. Never a person to just lay about in bed, Parker headed to her bedroom, changed into some soft, flannel pajamas that she kept much like a comfort food, threw on an equally heavy robe and padded in her slippers to the kitchen. Twenty minutes latter she had a box of tissues, a pot full of tea snuggled in a cozy of its own, a bowl of soup and the TV remote control in her hand.

**__****Surveillance van  
Half mile from Parker's residence**

At the same time Parker was getting herself set to ride out another long, lonely night, Jarod was finishing up with his physically demanding workout regimen. He was mopping the excess sweat from his face when his cell phone rang. Answering he was told his presence was needed at the surveillance van, forthwith. Eschewing the showers for expediency, Jarod used the usual precautions but arrived at the team's van in less than 15 minutes.

"What's up?"

"It may be nothing but I've been keeping a close eye on Miss Parker and she looked deathly ill earlier today. She and her assistant stayed inside a curio shop for over two hours before coming out. When they did, she seemed a bit better but still looked green around the gills. I don't know what's going on, so I thought it would be best to give you the latest update. Maybe this would be a good opening to just check on her?"

"She said something about coming down with a cold," Jarod replied slowly. "It won't hurt to make sure it isn't anything serious," Jarod mulled trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for dropping by.

Barney noticed his pensiveness and silently breathed a sigh of relief. While he had been spying on Parker earlier, he had the distinct impression that she had spotted him. Curiosity had almost completely gotten the best of him when he began to approach the curio shop. His reflexes saved him from getting caught because he saw them emerge before they spotted him. Barney kept track of Parker and her tall, wiry assistant via a plate glass window on the opposite side of the street. He wanted to get a closer look at the shop to find out what business they had inside.

"Why not tell her that your hotel is replacing a hot water heater and you needed her shower to clean up. While you're looking in on her, I'm going to see what they were up to."

Jarod looked down at his appearance and up into his friend's dark face with a rakish grin. "Don't bother. The shop's a front for one of the Centre's data annexes. This one has an expansive cellar they also converted into a large conference room. They were probably attending a meeting. Plus the bland-looking shopkeeper is actually a sweeper that's likely armed to the teeth. The shower's is an excellent idea though."

**__****Parker residence  
Blue Cove, DE**

He entered the home bypassing the alarm using his own personal code he had programmed into the unit. Getting past the door's deadbolt was easier his way than with a key and quicker too. The alarm still beeped briefly announcing his entrance. Hopefully, Parker was sleeping peacefully in bed instead of being startled by her alarm. He closed the door silently and listened. Muffled voices were coming from the other room and after another few seconds he determined that the TV was on and must have drowned out the noise. Caution was his habit as he slowly opened the kitchen door. He didn't immediately see her but that didn't mean anything necessarily.

"Stop right there."

Jarod froze at her command. He knew the business end of her 9mm was aimed squarely at his head. "It's me Miss Parker. I'm unarmed."

"Damn it, Jarod. I swear I see more of you now than I did when I was chasing after you. What are you doing here? I thought your business was with the Centre, not me."

"Just thought I would drop in for a few minutes, you're home a little early," he said slowly as he turned to face her. Her face was sweaty and her eyes overly bright but other than that she seemed alright. He treated her to a smirk and added, "Would you mind if I used your shower?"

Irritation furrowed her brows as she retorted angrily, "Go shower at your hotel and while you're at it, eat over there too."

"Their repairing the hot water heater in my hotel," Jarod replied. He shivered slightly as his sweat began to dry on his body. Parker noticed and rolling her eyes wearily she waved him off. The adrenaline that had charged through her system, when she heard her door open, had quickly dissipated leaving her more exhausted than before.

Jarod watched her with growing concern as she shuffled slowly back to her seat. It was then that he noticed the box of tissues, bowl of soup and teapot on the living room table. Giving her a significant look, he turned towards the bedroom and took his shower.

When he came out, Jarod noticed that Parker was in her same spot and seemed to be engrossed in a television program. Walking over to her, he felt her forehead causing her to flinch away from his touch. Still he could tell she was burning up. He then turned his attention to the items on the table, completely ignoring her reactions. He touched the side of the bowl and realized the soup had turned cold as did the tea. Without asking, he picked up both items and retreated to the kitchen to warm them up. Once he had finished warming her food, he opened the freezer to see that there was a rapidly dwindling supply of the unlabeled containers. Not caring what it was, he took one out and put it in the microwave to heat.

"Here you go. I've warmed your soup and tea. Are you sure you're warm enough? Where are the blankets?"

He instantly headed in the direction she vaguely indicated and found what he was looking for, a closet with a couple comforters and blankets folded on the shelves.

"Here, this should help," he placed the partially folded blanket in her lap allowing it to drape down to her feet. He then poured a cup of tea and handed it to her. Parker accepted grudgingly but underneath she was grateful for the unaccustomed attention.

Jarod disappeared and then returned with a heated frozen dinner. Parker suspected that he would raid her freezer again and rolled her eyes in general but fading annoyance. He sat his meal next to her steaming soup and watched as she got up and changed DVD's. Jarod lit the prepared fire in the fireplace and returned to the couch to sit next to Parker.

"What are you watching? Do you mind having company? I'll leave if you prefer being alone."

She looked over at him and shook her head slightly while shrugging at the same time. She was struck by his unaffected and solicitous behavior. It was refreshingly different to what she was used to.

"What's the name of the movie?"

"Harvey. It's been one of those days," she replied by way of an explanation.

Jarod had no reaction to the name of the show; he merely began to rummage through the duffle he brought with him. He took out a bottle of pills and immediately downed two of them with a glass of water he had brought out with the meal. He was about to return the pills to his bag when a thought struck him. Looking over at Parker, he held the bottle up as an offering.

"Try these again. I take them after workouts to boost my energy. They're also immune enhancers. It may help ease your symptoms."

Parker looked at the pills and had a smart retort was on her lips when she suddenly thought better of it. She really was feeling lousy. At her hesitation, Jarod opened the bottle and shook out 2 pills for her. Parker accepted and after taking them she leaned back against the soft cushions to enjoy the movie.

She answered Jarod's brief questions about the movie and watched with growing amusement at his puzzlement over its premise. Afterwards she enjoyed hearing his opinions about the plot and had to admit to herself that she hated for the evening to end. When they weren't enemies, he was great company. His concern over her illness was neither overbearing nor fake. With a mighty yawn, she turned off the television after he left and cleaned up the remaining dishes. She was surprised to realize that most of the cold symptoms had for the most part faded. It seemed Jarod's little pills worked after all. Smiling, she was turning out the lights in the living room when she noticed that he had left the pill bottle behind.


	10. Try something different

Diclaimer: Please see chapter 1 for the usual stuff.  
Author's note: SAC stands for Special Agent in Charge, a rather high rank within the FBI. More background in this chapter. Real life has been interrupting a lot lately but soon, vacation beckons, which means no laptop. I'll update as soon as possible. Enjoy! 

**Mission  
Impossible**

******(Chapter 10  
Reasons)**

**__****2 years ago**

**__****Hyatt Regency  
Jersey City, NJ **

Mental and emotional exhaustion clung to his mind as he lay on top of the generic hotel bed hoping for sleep. It had been several weeks since he had the luxury of closing his eyes without the fear of someone creeping up to try and kill him. His last pretend was harrowing at best and the added personal danger required some serious re-evaluation and self-examination.

As the months were turning into a year since he had returned empty handed from Scotland, his subsequent pretends had become more dangerous and the stakes were raised considerably. He reasoned that it was because of the near miss in finding his mother. The frustration he had managed to control previously had begun to eat away at his peace of mind with a vengeance. Then watching helplessly as Margaret left him behind, oblivious that he was screaming his lungs out to get her attention was a hefty dose of disappointment that had been topped off by being stuck on an island with a woman whose personal blindness was beyond aggravating especially given that it was she who precipitated his delay in reaching Margaret almost caused him to emotionally shut down. He was pushed to an emotional abyss by having his attraction to Parker crop up in a place and at a time where she had full view of it and he had little encouragement to conceal it. Desire flowed with unaccustomed ease, unhampered and unchallenged by her sharp wit, only to have his attempt to kiss her interrupted by a blind woman. Afterwards, the well-trained, conditioned woman wouldn't even let him hold her hand! He knew what she was feeling but he had failed to look in the direction she was staring. Her corrupt father held her in a thrall that she seemed incapable of breaking.

His answer to so many delays, rejection and frustrations was first to seek sensual relief. When that didn't work out, he started to become entangled in pretends that formerly he wouldn't have risked. The only respite he allowed himself was when he received a message from Ethan to come home. His surprise and extreme joy at seeing his mother and being able to hold her and talk to her pushed all else from his mind. He spent a few months with his family until it became clear to him that they all had to face the extreme damage the Centre had imposed on them. Hanging out with Emily was surprisingly his main joy. His sister was a funny, warm and tough woman wrapped in a package of obvious intelligence and acquired caution. Still, the draw and pull of his pretends began to tempt him again. Judging that this was due solely to that black hole of loneliness that even his mother's presence and his family's reunion seemed unable to fill, he sat in a muddle of confusion. The dangerous pretends continued.

Spent and now submitting himself to a brutal self-examination, Jarod was roused from his reverie by the ringing of a cell phone from his bag. Earlier, he had reached into the bag blindly and finding the shape of a cell phone, he pushed the appropriate button and hearing the responding beep, thought nothing further about it. The ring was unfamiliar as he rolled over and realized his mistake once he found the phone. It was one that he had kept after his pretend with the FBI's vaunted VCTF unit. Curiosity spurred him to answer the incessant ring.

"Jarod, is that you? I've been trying this number for weeks and was about to give up hope of contacting you. It's been a few years so I'm not sure if you remember me, Bailey Malone."

"Agent Malone, of course I remember you. How are you doing? Are you still with the VCTF?"

"Yes, I let them draw me back in, but this will be my last year. I'm getting too old and cynical for this business and it's about time I start discovering a personal life," Malone replied in a self-mocking tone. "The reason I'm reaching out to you is that a very peculiar proposition has come up and I was asked to make a recommendation."

"What sort of proposition?" Jarod asked, glad for the distraction as his curiosity began to rev into high gear.

"An unusual employment opportunity has opened up and your name came to mind. Given your experience with secret congressional investigations, it sounded right up your alley."

"Interesting. But you haven't said what it's about."

"It's not something I can discuss over the phone. If you can be in the Atlanta area in the next couple weeks, we can meet and discuss it."

Several days later, Jarod met Bailey Malone who tantalized his curiosity with limited details but continued to be veiled in his references to the point that all Jarod could do was shrug indifferently while giving Bailey free reign to submit his name. Several days after their meeting, as Jarod began to set up another pretend his cell phone rang again.

"Mr. Wilkes, we would like to speak to you. SAC Malone has told us of your assistance to the VCTF in which you were a principal in the capture of at least two exceptionally violent criminals. Your background is of extreme interest to us, primarily because you have avoided being on the 'grid' yet still retain the ability and interest in helping others."

The deep male voice caused the hairs on the back of Jarod's neck to rise in alarm. Though he used the pseudonym that Jarod had given Bailey, power, knowledge and control oozed from the caller's tone freely but with a depth of moderation that left Jarod extremely cautious. Here, there was none of the arrogance that was at the crux of the Centre's ineptitude. There could be no mistake that this person belonged to the covert agency Bailey said had expressed an interest in him.

An idea occurred to Jarod. It seemed the voice on the phone knew a great deal more about him than he was letting on. As a test, Jarod allowed a pregnant pause to stretch before replying. "At the moment, I'm a bit tied up on a project. Perhaps we can talk later next month?"

"Your current "project" will interfere with our plans for the terrorist cell which you intend to infiltrate. Should you persist, we would have to take you out of play and force a meeting. It would be in both our best interests if you would meet with us _willingly_."

"I must be slipping," Jarod whispered angrily. He had taken extra precautions to avoid detection. The only answer was they were having him followed. It had to be someone very good—he hadn't noticed a thing. His 'keeper' must have met up with a fellow agent who had been assigned to watch his terrorists. Coincidence and bad luck was cautioning Jarod to back off and take some down time.

"On the contrary, it was sheer coincidence that discovered what you were about to do. The fact that you would most likely be successful without our knowing your full agenda forced our hand."

His curiosity was again spurred as he agreed to the meeting. These people obviously had influence and were not only aware but ready to move on the volatile terrorist cell, whose members he had planned on turning against each other. It was a meeting that changed his life and provided the support in backup and information to expand his pretends without having to plunder the Centre for funds or putting up with the inconvenience of attracting their interest. Now he was in a world of intrigue where practically everyone was a type of pretender—including the enemy. His contact was the voice on the phone, who wasn't bothered by Jarod's ever changing last name, lack of identity papers or the usual accoutrements that established one's existence. Instead the man explained that it saved them a great deal of time and effort. Removing a person from the 'grid' wasn't easy. Faking death certificates and removing the electronic evidence of a life and habits was a time consuming, detail orientated business. To show that the depth of their information was as meticulous as it was thorough, the carefully ambiguous contact slid a thick manila envelope across the table, full of newspaper clippings and written accounts of Jarod's various exploits. Included was a brief resume concerning his mother, complete with the picture he had given George at the VCTF to assist in his search.

What followed were a series of tests that proved there was no need for any sort of formal training—Jarod excelled in almost everything they threw at him. He was then released into the field as an agent and submitted to a complicated system of being contacted; receiving keys or directions along with the time and place to show up. Pawn shops, coffee houses, marinas, and once even a doctor's office complete with an iPod and transparencies were the places and technology used to advise him of his latest assignments. At first, it was up to Jarod to make these assignments as dangerous or safe as he warranted. When he was suddenly promoted to Control and saddled with a team, it was a clear message that though his results were more than satisfactory, they didn't like the physical risks he took.

This represented Jarod's first job being paid handsomely for something which he had been doing for free. The stakes were high, recognition or tributes impractical and the little guy helped without any fanfare. Of course, this method removed the personal touch Jarod had gotten so used to but it was a small price to pay for helping so many on such a scale. His lucrative salary was warily handled with a level of care that kept its ultimate destination a secret—even the agency didn't want to expend the time and energy unraveling its final destination. It took at least a month for his salary to reach its intended depository.

Jarod was having the time of his life, always cognizant that it was Sydney who had more than thoroughly trained him from childhood for this. Anything that was even remotely related to what had been done to him as a child and by extension his family would always be, in his mind, temporary at best. This wasn't the sort of profession that people normally retired from.

* * *

**__****Parker's residence - Present  
Blue Cove, DE**

The following morning Parker woke with the return of her prior symptoms. Fortunately, they were for the most part still being muted by the pills she received from Jarod. Rolling over, she reached out and grabbed the bottle from her nightstand and swallowed two more pills before rolling back over and closing her puffy eyes. Half an hour later, she was up, showered and leaving her house. Instead of heading directly to the Centre, she opted for the supermarket. Well, at least Green Point's estimation of a supermarket. Out of habit she went out of her way to do her grocery shopping, this time she headed towards the next town. It had been decades since the last time she faked being sick to get a day off. The past few years taught her to use the excuse sparingly since it typically meant that she had either been shot or had major surgery. Today would be a sick day for her and Parker was determined to get as much done as possible while she was feeling half-way decent and could enjoy the freedom.

Remy was concerned but the relief in his voice was blatantly obvious. He was happy that she decided to stay home and take care of herself. The joy of hearing that she was taking a sick day wasn't confined to just Parker and Remy, either. Dr. Thackery almost fainted in relief while Cox grimaced in defeat.

Jarod arrived to an empty house. He scowled at her determination to serve a place that leeched her health away by degrees then demanded her loyalty without giving anything of any real worth back. He looked around and saw that she had taken the bottle of pills with her. At least they were helpful. Jarod was on the brink of leaving when he heard a car drive up. Minutes later, Parker entered holding two full bags of groceries. He watched her struggle without helping. Leaving the door open meant that she had to make another trip to complete the load. Curious, he looked in the bags to find enough food stuffs for a meal to feed at least twenty. Heavy footsteps made their way to the back door again, only this time he rushed forward and easily lifted the heavy burden from her arms. Parker blinked in surprise but said nothing. She paused before entering the house and taking a step backwards, began looking at the outside as though confused. Jarod watched her as she slowly reentered the house.

"I live here right? I'm getting confused because you're always here," she stated sharply.

"I see you've taken a sick day. You looked so miserable yesterday that I wanted to drop by to see if you needed anything. I'm glad the pills were helpful," he replied neutrally.

Again his solicitous behavior caught her off guard. Averting her gaze, she had the grace to be ashamed of her manners. Without commenting or expressing any appreciation, she silently unpacked the groceries. Suddenly preoccupied with her own thoughts, Parker became engrossed in carrying out her unusual plan. Absently, she began ordering Jarod around, and working as well while still deep in thought.

Here was a chance to change. Her limited lifestyle didn't offer many reasons but one recently kept popping up unasked. What had always been absent in her life was a compelling enough motivation to do so. She had mulled through it as a theoretical possibility while in the supermarket and on the way back about how to achieve the change without anyone at the Centre knowing about it. In the past, she had been reluctant to show Tommy how she truly felt, while most everyone in the Centre, even Broots, could plainly see what was going on. This time she wanted to reverse that order and go beyond. Jarod wanted to be her friend, well then she would start acting like one. It would be the last thing she would ever admit to at the Centre and she would make sure to hide from them any changes to the status quo with her private life. For too long she had been stifled by her own futile attempts to gain her father's approval and live up to his expectations and then by her precarious promotion at the Centre to keep her true self under tight wraps. Perhaps it was the onset of her middle years that caused her to want this change. Parker felt it was time to let someone see her real side and for once to relax her vigilance without the fear of emotional reprisals. Besides, Jarod always wanted her to drop the façade.

Swallowing the tight bile of her fear, she leaned against the table top and breathed deeply. Jarod saw her pause from unpacking the numerous groceries and wondered if her cold symptoms were returning. He hadn't minded helping her, especially after seeing the self-reproach in her face when he told her the purpose of his visit. Her complexion was still clear but the headache could've returned. Reaching into his pocket, he handed her another bottle of Jonas' pills along with a glass of water.

A slight smile lightened her features when she understood his honest mistake. Without quibbling, she took the proffered medication. "Thank you. Mind keeping me company?"

"Sure, but I'll only be able to stay a little while. I have a few things I need to do."

"Alright, have a seat." Parker rolled up her sleeves and started preheating her oven, setting pots and pans out and then separating the various groceries.

Jarod watched first with confusion and then understanding as she systematically began cooking the food she brought. He watched as she seasoned the roast and found his mouth watering at the prospect. The meals in her freezer had been chicken and pork chops. Today was a variety on the theme which included fish, roast and pasta. He couldn't wait.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked nodding to the food she had laid out on the kitchen table.

"For quite a while now. I got tired of having to decide which restaurant I wanted to eat from each night and the pounds were starting to show. This way I eat healthier, I can control the caloric content and it's convenient. It doesn't taste too bad either."

"No, it's very good. May I help?"

Shaking her head with a small, though friendly smile she replied, "I have a particular system. Just talk to me, I usually do this alone. You've been spoiling me lately with conversation that has nothing to do with the Centre."

Unable to sit still while she worked so diligently, he handed her ingredients and seasonings as she reached for them. Their conversation had started out fitfully but soon became more interesting as they became more comfortable with each other. Jarod was taking advantage of Parker's amiable mood to the point he forgot his other appointment. Over two hours later, his cell phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He looked at the display in disbelief and checked his watch to confirm the time. Answering, he stepped into the living room to speak to Jonas so he could receive updates from his team. Carefully constructed code words and phrases kept any of his conversation from being understood by the Centre's Security Director. It was necessary for Jarod to remind himself of her official title because he felt he was becoming too relaxed around her. A change had occurred somewhere between the time Parker returned home and began cooking. It was something he hadn't expected. She was treating him decently and acting differently than she ever had in his presence.

After his phone call, he reentered the kitchen and was greeted by a delicious smell. The roast was almost done as she carefully basted it in its own juices along with a few added seasonings. He had no idea she was so adept in the kitchen. Nothing in his history with her ever suggested such a domesticated skill. Looking at his former nemesis, Jarod acknowledged that he still found her attractive. She stood with her back to him, but he knew from staring that she was wearing little makeup; her hair was curling naturally from the steam that had filled the room and her complexion, though still a bit unnaturally pale set off her dark hair and accented her eyes. He was feeling the pull of attraction once again and wanted to avert any expression of what was going on in his head. So, to relieve his feelings and to get back on ground which he was more familiar, he stole silently behind her and waiting for her to finish tasting her sauce, he reached both arms around her waist and squeezed hard. Satisfyingly, she jumped at the unexpected contact and Jarod could feel every muscle in her body tense. At the moment, he didn't care that she wasn't feeling well, he needed to irritate her, to get her back to her nasty old self so he could re-distance himself from her emotionally.

Parker knew Jarod was behind her, but she wanted to finish what she had started before her symptoms came back. There was an increasing pressure in her skull that kept expanding painfully and progressively, suggesting that the cold symptoms were once again returning. Now it was becoming unbearable. Jarod's pills had done nothing to stop the pressure but they did help with the rest of her symptoms. Parker had finished testing her sauce when she noticed that Jarod's arms were around her belly. Before this could fully register in her mind, he squeezed her tightly. His physical contact made her jump and her whole body tensed in alarm. What followed she hardly could've imagined. Suddenly, the pressure in her head drained off, like water through a hole in a bucket. By the time he released her, it felt like half the pressure had been drained away. It was all Parker could do not to throw her head back and lean against him in relief. She knew almost as instantly, that he had embraced her in an effort to get her to snap at him. This was the first test of her resolve.

"Just checking to make sure you aren't armed," he said cheekily.

With calculated exasperation, Parker sharply elbowed Jarod in the stomach and then squirmed away from him. "Stop it! Don't ruin my mood, Jarod. You've been drooling for the past hour. Be nice and I'll let you have some of this," she threatened sternly.

"I could always tie you up and eat to my heart's content," he smirked defiantly.

"You could and we would be back where we started. You want me to stop threatening you with a weapon? Then stop trying to irritate me. Honestly, I'm tired," she said with a genuine sigh. "Being a bitch is a bitch to maintain. Give me a break." Turning back to the food on the stove, Parker began turning off the burners, since this was the last of the meals she needed to prepare before freezing. All was quiet and she turned to find Jarod leaning against the counter as though waiting.

Thirty minutes later, they had eaten a small portion of the large roast, the unlabeled containers were filled once again with food and taking up over half the available space in her freezer. Parker was satisfied and tired. It was all she could do to finish what she had started. Jarod saw the fatigue in her posture and cleared her place, allowing her a few more minutes to relax.

"Miss Parker, I was wondering if you would do me a very large favor?" he asked slowly. When he received no answer he continued, "Would you give me the rest of the roast along with the trimmings? I have some friends who haven't had a decent meal in months. They would definitely appreciate it."

"That's my dinner for the next several weeks, Jarod."

"I realize that, but you have plenty in your freezer," he protested mildly. He was testing the bounds of her revised attitude. He wasn't disappointed.

"If I see Rufus gnawing on this, I'll never forgive you," she replied wearily.

"Who's Rufus?"

"The neighbor's dog. He's always begging for food."

"I can assure you that Rufus won't have a chance once my friends get a hold of this," he replied with a thankful smile.


	11. Free Dinner

_**Disclaimer: **_ Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statements.  
_**Author's note:**_ I apologize for the long delay in continuing this story. Real life has been getting hairy, leaving little time for writing.

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 11 -  
Intrigues)**

_**  
Trader's Inn B&B  
Blue Cove, DE **_

The group lounged around the dining room table stuffed and satisfied. Jarod watched his team with growing amusement and hid the smile that threatened to show. All that was left of the roast was a bone stripped bare of any significant morsel. Modesty led the way to the living room area, where she sat on the couch with a glass of wine in one hand and leaned back with a deep sigh. The others followed silently.

"Jarod that was the best meal I've had in a long time. Where did you get it?" Modesty asked with a friendly smile.

"I think that was the best meal I've _ever_ had. My compliments to the chef," Barney seconded with a nod.

"Anyone who cooks that well should have the restaurant named after them," Geoff agreed with a satisfied pat of his belly.

Jonas raised his glass in agreement but remained silent. He had eaten the most, which was enough for Jarod to know how he felt about the meal. Everyone had seconds after being surprised by the first bite. Jarod had the least, taking only a small sliver of the roast with half a glass of red wine.

"I'm glad everyone enjoyed the meal. I thought you would appreciate it," he answered with a grin.

"So where did you pick it up?" Barney asked curiously.

"I picked it up at Miss Parker's house after she finished cooking it."

The room went silent as each of his team stared at him in disbelief. It had already been twenty minutes—time enough for the bulk of the meal to be digested—since most of them had finished, except Jonas who had just finished his third helping.

"Parker cooked this?" Geoff asked in amazement. "I noticed that you didn't eat very much."

"That's because I ate with her."

"You had dinner with her? She cooked this for _you_?" Geoff asked with a growing smile. He knew the book would help but after he started working for her, he only halfway expected it to be effective on Parker.

"No, she cooked it for herself. There's a system she's devised so she can have meals like this without having to go out to restaurants every night. I was there when she returned from shopping and got her to agree to let me have the roast. She's assuming that you're all just a bunch of homeless cases I'm taking pity on."

Modesty laughed in agreement and was soon joined in by the others. Looking at Jarod appraisingly she said slyly, "It seems Miss Parker is improving on you. Is it because of Geoff's dating book?"

"No. Her cold is affecting her current mood. Once she gets over it, I'm sure she'll back to her mean and nasty old self," Jarod replied smoothly. That wasn't his true opinion but he wondered how staunchly Parker would stick to her newfound resolve.

"Her cold? Right, Jarod," Modesty laughed heartily with some amusement. His expression told her nothing, her gut said that Geoff's little romance book was probably backfiring on their wily Control.

_**The Centre  
Psychogenic Division  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Sydney had gone through the last of the psych evaluations that Cox had ordered. As a precaution he had asked for the report written up by Dr. Thackery's assistant, Jennifer, who submitted an evaluation on the one patient her boss had told her profile. Sydney was impressed with Jennifer's conclusions and as a precaution he took it upon himself to weed out a few of Jennifer's observations—just to be on the safe side. Sydney knew it was risky doing this but he didn't want this patient to be laid open for the Centre to use like a soulless guinea pig. Once he was finished, he made a copy of the original findings on a backup disk and sent the altered version and a copy of it to Cox. The elderly psychiatrist was just finishing up with this task when he received an unexpected visitor.

"Hello, doctor."

"Yes, may I help you?"

"You can by telling me what's in that inter-office envelope," the man stated quietly.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Come now, doctor. You've seen me around," the visitor chided gently. "We have a common interest that I believe we should discuss."

"And what exactly would this 'common interest' be?" Sydney asked as he sat up straighter. A suspicion of the man's true identity finally dawned on him and that perked the psychiatrist's interest immediately.

"Not what but who. Miss Parker is our common interest and it's about time we've had a discussion about her."

"Really? Why?"

"Her future is shakier than her past, doctor. You care about her and I'm interested in keeping her a major player in this place. I believe if we put our minds to it, we can effect some extraordinary changes here. Parker is the key for both of us—my ambitions and your conscience. What do you say?"

"It would be better if we did this elsewhere. These walls have ears, as I'm sure you're well aware."

"Your caution is justified. Meet me at Lindsey's in Sierraton—down the street from the place where I left you that last package. I believe we should be able to talk there without any interruptions or anyone trying to overhear us," the visitor replied. His piercing stare was colder than anything Raines could've conjured up. The man then turned on his heel and left as quietly as he arrived.

Without realizing it, Sydney released the breath he was holding and slumped back in his chair. He was surprised by who the man was and that he chose to reveal himself here in the Centre. As the doctor watched the man slowly disappear, he glanced at the DSA camera in the discrete overhead corner of his office. His eyebrows lifted slightly as he noticed the red activation light wink back on.

_**Dr Thackery's Office  
Level 6**_

Modesty had searched every inch of Thackery's office to no avail. There was no sign of his patient records. All she could find was a sample of the drug he used to render his victims unconscious. The only conclusion she could immediately come up with was that the doctor carried those files with him wherever he went. If this were true then getting her hands on them would involve a rethinking of her strategy. She was quietly mulling over how to approach the doctor, when he came breezing in the office looking quite pleased with himself.

"Doctor, I've finished making notes of the therapy dosages. Would you like me to include my notes on the patient's charts?" she asked innocently. She figured the doctor would react negatively to her request but was surprised by his almost taciturn response.

"Of course, I'll send you an electronic copy of the file for you to update. Put your notes in the newer file. From now on, I'll send you that file to update as the therapy proceeds," the geneticist replied calmly as he looked over her detailed annotations. As an afterthought he continued, "Why don't you take an early lunch. There isn't much for you to do right now but I'll need you back here at 2:00pm sharp."

Modesty was surprised by this expansiveness. It was only 11 in the morning which gave her plenty of free time to wander around but not in the doctor's office. She had followed Thackery into his office while he continued talking. At the edge of his desk, there was a neglected disk peeking out from under numerous papers. Modesty faked a shocked expression at her generosity, which seemed to gratify the doctor who began to read his email as she deftly slipped the thin case from its hiding place and into her lab coat pocket.

"Thank you very much doctor. I guess I'll be seeing you at 2," Modesty replied as she turned and left the office. She would be heading to the surveillance van stationed near the Parker woman's house to get Jonas to create a copy of the disk if the contents proved to be useful.

_**Parker residence  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Waking to the sound of rain gently slapping against the panes of her bedroom window encouraged a lazy yawn out of Parker as she stretched herself into another level of wakefulness. She looked around her darkened room. The grayness of the day threw a shaded luminance throughout the room muting everything around her. Far from feeling muted, Parker woke with none of the symptoms she had been suffering from yesterday. She attributed this relaxation from her misery to the pills Jarod had given her. The extra pill bottle encouraged her to take another dose just before going to bed. Her deep sigh sounded loud in the lonely room. Parker wasn't in the mood to go to work and if her symptoms returned while she was there, it was a certainty that her mood would turn fouler than the weather. With a quick call to Remy, complete with her sleep-hoarse voice, she explained that she would be taking another sick day and for him to cover for her. Remy sounded very concerned but she lightly dismissed his concerns, stating that she was feeling better but thought venturing out in the cold and wet would probably force her back into bed anyway.

Remy nodded at her logic while assuring Parker that he would do his best to keep things from piling up. As he hung up, the harried assistant looked around at the growing pile of reports and paperwork that needed his boss' signature. Shrugging, he turned his back to the pile and opened up the Centre's e-mail program. His eyes grew wide when he looked at the ridiculous number of e-mails clogging his in-box. He hoped Parker would be feeling well enough to come in tomorrow. He could just imagine what _her_ inbox looked like.

The source of Thackery's generous mood and expansive good will was because Parker was extremely late coming into work and chances were good that she would call in sick for the second time. This bode well and seemed to lend credence to his hastily made diagnosis that the woman's symptoms would worsen as the viral vector continued to have its way with her immune compromised system. Soon she will be visiting her doctor, a mild analgesic would be prescribed and she would be returning for a week free from any further treatments.

Cox listened to a tape of Parker's sick call. She sounded more tired than ill. Her records didn't indicate any propensity for calling in sick on a whim or to get a day off. The last time she failed to show up for work, a doomed romance with some carpenter fellow was the reason. Since the surveillance team confirmed that wasn't the case here, he was forced to conclude that Thackery's procedure was working on her. Still suspicion ruled his mind and making a phone call, he requested a couple sweepers to be sent to her house to insure that all was well with the Security Director. Raines agreed, since as Chairman, he was the only executive within the Centre that had sweepers who answered only to him and not to Parker.

Cox was an hour too late in dispatching the sweeper team as Jarod keyed in his code and entered the home silently. Unlike Parker, he had only a little sleep with most of the night going over the team's strategy and then reprogramming Parker's alarm system so it wouldn't beep when he entered her house. As sick as she was, he had been afraid that she would make a mistake and shoot him. He strolled into the living room and looked around. Hoping she was still here, he cautiously edged his way into her bedroom and heard the shower going. Relief propelled him back towards the kitchen where he began setting up to do some cooking.

A cloud of fragrant steam flowed out of the overly warm bathroom along with Parker as she emerged, warm, clean and curiously happy. The pressure that had been building up in her head was slowly returning but it was nothing like it had been yesterday. She briefly wondered why Jarod's irritating hugs seemed to relieve the pressure but she was at a loss for a reasonable explanation. Suddenly hungry, she gently pulled her now dry hair free from under her thick robe and padded over to the kitchen for some belated breakfast.

Jarod looked up and smiled as she entered looking fresh and better than she had in the past couple days. He couldn't seem to help himself but he found himself liking her. Sure, she was his old friend but that had been years, decades ago. He was well aware that once someone made a place for themselves in his heart, there was very little that could be done to reverse it. He should know because Parker certainly tried and had tried his patience and temper as well many times. Her change towards him wasn't helping matters for Jarod in the least.

"You look great. I'm making some breakfast for you," he stated as he turned back to a pot on the burner. A loud knock at her front door startled both of them.

Parker walked calmly over to the console next the front door, opened a drawer and retrieved her 9mm before asking who was there.

While Parker was putting in an appearance for the Sweepers sent to check on her well or ill-being, Jarod began putting the finishing touches on her breakfast. A few minutes later, after she sent Raines' pets on their way, Parker quietly returned to the kitchen hungrier than before.

Parker watched him move through her kitchen with a familiarity that couldn't help but irritate her. Jarod already knew too much about her, her family and her job. There had to be a few things left in her life where this man hadn't poked his big curious nose. Breathing in a large sigh of patience, she closed her eyes and messaged her forehead.

"Here you go," he commented loudly. Seeing Parker rubbing her forehead shut down his exuberance but snapped him into action. He got her a glass of juice and produced two more pills that Jonas had recently modified to specifically combat her cold.

Parker had sat down to a steaming bowl of cream of wheat, buttered toast and fresh juice. The food smelled wonderful and she was starting to look forward to having his company. Before she could make a fool of herself by allowing her ingrained training and habits to break her new resolve, hurting his feelings and doing nothing for the uncomfortable feelings she was starting to have for this pretender, Parker looked up and gave him a faint smile.

Concern was in Jarod's eyes as he handed her the pills. "Try these. The other one's I've been giving you were mainly to boost your energy and supplement your immune system. These are geared more towards helping your body to rebuild its defenses. They should be more effective against that flu you have."

"Thank you, Jarod."

He smiled again and sat opposite with only a glass of juice. Before she could protest, he said, "So you're taking another sick day. Good for you. That place has taken more than it will ever give back." He allowed a short pause of silence to envelop the room. Parker began eating tentatively which changed after the first few bites and her appetite made itself known again. Parker looked up with a question in her face and a full mouth.

"Your clothes," he answered swiftly. "By now, if you were going in, you would've come out fully dressed for the weather. I wanted to thank you again for the dinner last night. It was excellent and my friends definitely appreciated it. When you're feeling up to it, I would like to thank you properly and treat you to dinner." At Parker's astonished expression, Jarod laughed and replied as he got up from his seat, "Hey, it's the least I can do. Have a great day, Miss Parker."

"Where are you going?" she asked sharply.

The friendly smile still on his face, Jarod answered, "The project that brought me here is still on-going. Enjoy your breakfast."

"Do you really have to go?" she asked in a rush and then closed her eyes in self-reproach at the desperation in her voice. "Never mind, of course you have better things to do. Umm, thanks for the breakfast," she stammered unevenly as her embarrassment grew with each second. She could even feel an unaccustomed blush start warming her cheeks. Turning her head away from him, she waited to hear the back door open and close. It didn't.

Jarod saw her discomfiture and rather than being surprised he was charmed by it. She was lonely and didn't have many, if any, close friends. It was becoming more apparent that Parker was hanging on to her new attitude very tenaciously. Generosity was a part of his make up so, to relieve her embarrassment, he said, "Getting over an illness can be very boring. I'll come back later after you've had some more rest." With that he left.

_**Surveillance Van  
Half mile from Parker's residence **_

"So how goes it with the chef?" Barney asked with a smile.

"Fine. She's a bit cranky from being ill but nothing new," Jarod said as he entered the van. "Any word from Modesty?"

"I'm right here, Jarod. I think he keeps the records on him wherever he goes. Geoff has already searched his living quarters and nothing's there either."

"We have to get our hands on those records. The real files and not the optimistic ones he must have handed over to the Centre," Jarod said with a dissatisfied frown.

"I have some thoughts on how to get a hold of Dr. Cox's copies—so that shouldn't be too much of a problem. But I know your frustration. I grabbed this disk out of pique when I couldn't find anything else. We were about to see if there's anything worthwhile on it," Modesty replied.

Barney and Jarod moved over to Jonas' terminal and watched as he loaded the purloined disk into his computer and displayed the files it contained. "I think you hit the jackpot here," Jonas said happily. The disk had numbered files that appeared to be medical records, however when he clicked on one of the files it was empty. After clicking on the third, Jonas was about to give up when the file appeared to still have documents. Clicking the document confirmed his suspicions. Modesty had hit a sort of mother lode.

"Those aren't Centre employees," Barney remarked slowly. "These must be some of the patients that he had in Africa."

"The unfortunate 'befores' he was experimenting on that helped him come up with his new and improved serum," Modesty commented with a sad shake of her head.

"It's not exactly the proof that we needed but it's still very useful. This will give us an idea of where he's headed in his research and if we're lucky, what he's trying to do to his Centre guinea pigs," Jarod added solemnly.

Modesty stared at the printouts made from the disc. A tight fist of dread curled uncomfortably in her stomach as she read what was done and the side-effects experienced by the African patients. She was still at a loss as to the current application of the treatments going on at the Centre. According to the medical files that had been included with the employee records, there was no indication that either of the Centre employees suffered from any form of Cancer. In fact, they all seemed to be perfectly healthy. The frightening aspect was speculating on the ultimate goal. A germ of an idea occurred to her as she turned to Jarod for his input.

"Something I found on Thackery's desk gave me the idea. What if I used a ring needle to knock him out in order to search him?"

"When he woke up he would immediately know it was you who drugged him. What was it that you found on his desk?" Jarod asked curiously.

"It was a sample of the knock-out drug he's been using on his guinea pig patients in the Centre. The thought occurred to me that turnabout is fair play."

A far-away look encompassed his expression as his mind split in two directions; putting meat on Modesty's idea and wondering why the Centre would send a team of sweepers to check on an executive who called in sick. "You're right and I agree turnabout is fair play. I think I know of a way to make your idea work, without exposing you."


	12. Back to work

**Disclaimer:** Please see Chapter 1 for the statement  
**Author's Note**: In reading some of the reviews from Chapter 10, I thought it best to answer at least one of the questions posed. Namely, why certain actions on Jarod's part are easing the tensions brought on by what was done to Parker. Please return to Chapter 7, there I explain what was going on in Parker's mind from there it's not such a leap to figure out the rest.

**Mission  
Impossible**

******(Chapter 12  
Games and fatigue)**

**__****Parker residence  
Blue Cove, DE**

Several hours later Jarod found himself engaged in a tense battle of wits as he faced his tenacious opponent who held home advantage. His eyes searched the field of battle for any slim chance to improve upon his current circumstances and he brought his brilliant mind to bear on the problem. Soon, like a heavy morning mist parting the way, Jarod saw a way out. A quick glance at his opponent confirmed her total commitment while she calmly awaited his next move. With a sure hand, he placed a finger on the card and put it down cautiously. In response, Parker whispered her approval and then trumped him, easily scooping up his card and throwing down the rest of her hand in triumph.

"Well done, Parker. You've beaten me again but I would hardly call it a fair contest. You still haven't explained the rules of this game. Why did I have to draw 4 cards just for making a mistake with the Wild Draw? And what's this business with yelling "one" in Spanish?" he asked curiously.

"That's the way the game is played and no, I refuse to explain the rules to you. How am I supposed to have even a slim chance of winning if I tell you all that?" she replied with a friendly grin as she gathered the Uno cards.

Jarod watched her with growing befuddlement. It seemed that the rules also changed with each game they played. Actually, he didn't really mind. Being with her and enjoying her company was _his_ objective. It served Jarod's purpose that Parker remained oblivious to his reasons for coming back after his team meeting. She assumed that he had taken pity on her and he could tell from her expression when he returned that she was tempted to kick him out rather than have him feel sorry for her. Loneliness won out and she grudgingly allowed him to stay and then foisted this truly weird card game on him.

"Would you mind if we watched "Harvey" again?" he asked knowing full well what her reaction would be. Irritating her was still a lot of fun for him and helped to keep his personal feelings for her in check.

Parker put the cards away and turned to look at him incredulously. "You've got to be kidding. It's not one of those days, Jarod but I'll give it to you."

"It's a very good movie but I don't want to deprive you of your copy. I'll just buy one for myself," he replied with a smile. He had already done so and had watched it several times trying to figure out Parker's reasons for liking it.

"Well, the holidays are just a couple months away," she started tentatively. "I have an oldie that I like to watch." After several seconds of looking through her collection of DVD's she came up with the one she was seeking. "Here we go," she said with a smile which quickly faltered as she looked over at him. "Why don't we wait to see this some other time? It's late and you've got to be tired."

"A good night's sleep isn't something I'm familiar with," Jarod replied with some seriousness. "My battle with insomnia has yet to be conquered but you should get some rest so you won't have a relapse." He said this as he began to get up and gather his things.

Parker's heart sank as she waged a private war with her stubborn pride. Gritting her teeth she replied quietly, "I'm not tired either."

Jarod paused and looked over at her again. Her expression was studiously blank and he couldn't help but smile. "Really? Then let's watch it." Parker's choice in movies was turning out to be more personally informative than that crazy façade she had developed over the years. Also, it looked like somehow his old friend had returned and was as generous as she had ever been.

Two hours later as the movie credits were scrolling on the screen, the audience had long since fallen asleep. Sitting next to each other on the couch, Parker was slumped over while Jarod dropped off with his hand propping up his head. He wasn't sure what woke him, but surmised that it was probably the sudden silence after the music from the movie faded to nothing. Whatever it was, Jarod woke with a start and looked around, blinking and trying to orientate himself. Beside him, Parker was sound asleep, with her mouth slightly open. Fatigue weighed heavily on him as he slowly stood up and stretched. It had been several days since he enjoyed a full night's rest and it seemed his body picked tonight to feel every second of it. Looking over at Parker, Jarod turned and gently shook her to half wakefulness. Instead of getting up Parker stretched out, taking up his warm portion of the couch and promptly fell back asleep. Shrugging, Jarod pulled the woolen throw off the back of the sofa and covered her with it. When he was done, he looked down at her. The peaceful expression on her face was something he had never seen her fully achieve and made him stare even more.

Not entirely ready to leave, Jarod took an unused pillow and placed it on the floor beside the sofa. Next he put another log on the fire, shut off the lights and TV and settled on the floor, stretching once more. With his hands cradling the back of his head, the pretender stared up at the ceiling watching the shadows created by the fire dance and shift while his concentration became absolute. Distracting himself from his desires was his primary goal as he actively thought out the Centre's unusually strange reasoning for sending a team of sweepers to check on a sick executive. After running through a list of possible reasons, Jarod figured a trip through Broots and Sydney's electronic files might yield some information—a harmless run through their homes might just give him the rest of the story.

Then Jarod turned his mind to other concerns. This time instead of puzzling out one of Sydney's simulations or planning out a pretend, he turned his mind on more serious matters—what was going on in his own heart. Lately, he noticed that the highlight of his days were the moments when he was with Parker, often just sitting and talking with her. It was something he had never imagined would ever happen—his old friend had returned. The Centre had twisted the best of her to the point that Jarod felt his childhood friend was either long gone or so buried under the rubble that was the adult Miss Parker that he would never see her again. It was with this sad realization when Jarod recommended her to another lonely friend hoping someone she wasn't obligated to hate could get her to open up and see what more life had to offer. Jarod thought his plan stood one chance in a million but Thomas actually got through to her. Unfortunately, the Centre wouldn't allow her the option to build a life independent of the corporation and removed Thomas with a viciousness that rocked Jarod. He had convinced himself that should the Centre object, the most strenuous avenue they would take, would be to merely scare Thomas away with a nice fat envelope of money, which Thomas would, of course, ignore and some unsavory facts of Parker's employment, which he couldn't. Thomas' determination slammed forcefully into their brutality and his violent murder was their answer. Thomas' execution heaped another heavy burden of guilt on Jarod's already overburdened shoulders.

Then a couple years ago, while they were stuck together on that Scottish island, Jarod got the feeling that something more personal could exist between them but Parker had rejected the idea and given what she had told him about her training, that rejection had been more out of conditioning than inclination. Recently, however, his usually tumultuous relationship with Parker had taken a completely different turn. The change had started with her but was such that his desire for her had gone beyond anything he had anticipated. The dilemma was what to do about it.

So lost in thought it took him slightly shifting his position to feel something light resting on his chest. Looking over at her, he saw that Parker's head was precariously propped on the edge of the sofa while her arm trailed from the couch to come to rest on his torso. Her thick hair was covering her face, obscuring her features while her hand seemed to act like a tendril—making sure he was still nearby. Jarod smiled at the thought as he looked at her hand on his chest. This was yet another example of how she had bewitched him. Her actions were completely unconscious and far more effective than if she had read Geoff's silly book on seduction. Reaching up, Jarod carefully lifted her hair out of the way to see that she was still deeply asleep. A sudden chill engulfed the room marking the minutes as they ticked into hours while the fire began to go down. Gingerly moving away from her, Jarod got up and quietly put another log on the fire and then resumed his old spot. Once he was settled, he looked back over at his sleeping hostess. She hadn't moved at all but her arm was still hanging down. Again Jarod smiled then stared back up at the ceiling. He had been lonely most of his life but in the past couple weeks, the sensation had lessened considerably. In prior efforts to alleviate his loneliness, he had dated, bedded, and befriended many women but in returning to the place where he had grown up, there existed the one who seemed to assuage his problem with a shocking ease. There was a lot he wanted from Parker. Jarod had always dreamed of finding someone who would or could care for him the way he wanted and needed. Perhaps someone in a similar predicament would best be able to fill that need. With that thought, the pretender felt sleep begin to beckon once again. Before he dropped off, he very gently took Parker's hand and lightly kissed her knuckles, then placed her hand back on his chest. Heaving a large sigh, Jarod fell back asleep.

Parker watched as Jarod slept. When he moved away to place another log on the fire, his absence woke her. Adept at faking sleep, she remained still while he returned and settled back down. She was surprised when he kissed her hand, there was something in the way he did it that made her yearn for more than friendship. Opening her eyes fully, she waited till it was obvious that he was securely asleep. The additional log provided enough warmth but the minute it died out the room would once again turn cold. Silently she got up and sprang catlike off the couch. She went to the linen closet and retrieved a heavy blanket. Once she climbed back on the couch, she unfolded the blanket and lightly draped it over him. That would keep him warm enough. He looked angelic when he slept. This was the first time she ever had the chance of seeing him up close like this—completely relaxed. All his boyish features returned, reminding her of what she lost when she chose to honor her father's wishes. It seemed rude to leave him alone sleeping on the floor with just a small pillow and blanket. Following her own instincts, she lay back down, drew the throw around her body and snuggled up on the couch—to keep him company. Her courteous intentions rewarded her with the best sleep she had gotten in years.

**__****The Centre  
Technical Security Division  
Level 3  
Blue Cove, DE**

Remy was sitting next to Broots in the darkened, immense bull pen of computers, monitors and personnel that was arranged in a long semi-circular array that was reminiscent of Houston's Mission Control. High above the bull pen was a massive screen embedded in the facing wall which was currently displaying a map of the United States with several active points which pulsated in varying colors of blue and yellow. The two men were in the back of the bull pen on a two-step upper-level platform where the supervisors habitually sat and before them were two monitors that were constantly updating data as each man continued to enter it.

It was six o'clock in the morning and both men had a tall, cardboard cup of coffee sitting next to him. They were working in tandem as they closely monitored the attempted security breach as it occurred. Neither had uttered a word after their initial exchange and they seemed content with the silence. The pleasant scent of her perfume alerted both that they had a visitor who was quietly watching them.

Without turning around, Remy said in his persistent accent, "Director, I was wonderin' if you were going to make it in today. You wouldn't believe the amount of work that can pile up in a couple days time."

"Oh, I believe it, Remy. I saw it with my own eyes. What are you two doing?"

"Morning, Miss Parker. I received an automated alert from the system that someone had hacked access to one of our exchange servers by using a recognized, targeted algorithm. The authentication protocol set up in the system shunted the request to a shill computer that's been isolated in a DMZ we set up for just this kind of situation. I've been back tracking the breach since I got here a couple hours ago. Remy is monitoring the hacker's progress," Broots stated quietly. Remy had told him yesterday that Parker was feeling unwell and he didn't want this minor inconvenience to bother her.

"Why wasn't I informed?" she asked sharply.

"Tried to boss, last night, but 'ah couldn't get through," Remy drawled casually.

"I left my cell phone on the whole time I was home. When did you try to call?" she asked a shade more brusquely than she intended. She tucked Jarod up around 2:30. When she woke up 4 hours later he was gone and the blanket he used had been neatly folded with the pillow placed on top.

"I left a message 'round 3 in the morning when the first alert came in but this isn't any thing to worry about. This is nothin' more than a little somet'ing or other Broots an' 'ah cooked up as bait for our determined friend. 'Ah wanted to spring our trap on him but Mr. Broots here wanted to find out more about his surfing habits."

"What about our Exchange server? Was it compromised? And what was the extent of the damage? Is it something you can fix quickly? The last thing I need is for Captain Ahab and his 40 thieves to start complaining about their e-mail."

"Since the computer is safely isolated within the DMZ there's no way for the hacker to access a live Centre exchange router or really to go anywhere within the system. The one he's accessed is a deadend. The equipment is a legacy server that we've salvaged, refurbished and programmed with some tasty, conspiracy-paranoid bait. We set it up to look like an active, networked exchange server. All our systems are fine an' unaffected. What 'ah wanted was to catch this _bon rien_ in the act."

"Yeah, from there I'll back track the hacker's activity, and find out where he is now—he moved since your last visit. Then, since I've gotten a large sample of his hacking code and I know how it works, I'll sic my sniffer program on him and find out every place he visits on the Internet and every other site he's either tried to crack or has success getting into. While that's working, Remy's just activated a worm program that we planted in one of his networked servers while you were at his apartment. That should corrupt or destroy all the programs that he's using. We'll be able to alert the authorities via his victims and get this guy out of our hair for good."

"Nice plan, Broots. Keep me updated. Remy, how much longer are you going to be here? My plate's too full to have you playing cat and mouse with a hacker," as Parker said this, she reached over and took Broots' large cup of coffee and started drinking it.

"I am at your disposal, ma'am," he replied happily retrieving his own coffee.

"Good, let's go." Parker turned on her heel and left the room taking Broots' coffee with her. The tech's shoulders slumped a bit as he shook his head resignedly. "At the pit of your worst fears and the summit of your wildest dreams. So close, yet so far away in the Brother Zone" he intoned quietly to himself, badly mimicking Rod Serling's Twilight Zone voice.

* * *

Lyle was in a bad mood. Everything that could go wrong seemed to have felt the need to do so at his expense. To top things off an incessant headache kept plaguing him. He felt like he was coming down with a fever but he was at a loss to explain why. Unlike his usual schedule before Dracula decided to play Dad, Lyle had plenty of free time to indulge in his 'other' pursuits. Mr. Parker understood his need to let off a bit of steam. Raines, on the other hand, had no such patience for allowing his executives some time off to reset their focus and energies. Lyle was further convinced by the mountain of paperwork from SIS that the bald wheezer was trying to break him and push him to the limits of his own tenuous self-control—It was starting to work. 

The Centre's financial accounts that were his responsibility were undergoing an unusual reversal. Nothing that indicated a serious fall but enough to cause him to stay late at the Centre making numerous overseas calls to his confusing array of brokers, bankers and investment houses to run down the source of his portfolio's woes. In addition to this, because of the Centre's unprecedented post-Jarod success, the Tower's Chief Financial Officer saw fit to dump a few more of the Centre's troubled financial portfolios on his already full plate. As a result, Lyle was obliged to spend more time in his office than ever before. He even woke up with a start one night, confused and in a haze because he hadn't been aware that he had fallen asleep until he woke up. That was entirely troubling. The next day the headaches began and he seemed unable to medicate them fully away, instead he was only able to manage them down to a dull roar.

Briskly walking over to his twin's office, he dreaded the thought of battling with her studied impassivity. Hostility from Parker was manna for his troubled mind. If he could get a rise out of his prickly sister, then at least he could say to himself that he hadn't lost his touch. Ironically, there was something in the back of his mind that urged him to push her further today, to see if he could perversely get her to try and physically hurt him. It was as if the mere prospect and probability of violence would ease his headache. With Sis, he would easily give in, of course. Nothing was so thrilling in his mind as to incite a certain level of rage in her eyes—a true thing of beauty.

As he approached her office, Lyle saw the new Project Financing manager, Leary, leaving Parker's office. The sociopath watched the Thomas look-a-like walk away with a frustrated look on his face and quick step. The guy didn't look particularly happy which could only mean one thing—his twin was in a lousy mood and didn't mind spreading the wealth. At least she wasn't falling for that obvious trick Raines decided to spring. A brief knock, which came off more like a light scraping of his knuckles against the door, and he was inside her sanctuary, standing next to that tall, wiry Southerner she referred to as her assistant. She was probably banging the guy's head off. He glanced at the other man and turned his attention on his lovely sister, who hadn't yet looked up.

"What do _you_ want?"

"Good morning to you too. I need the patent information on those furry toys Marketing came up with. Already tried to get it from them but they insisted, for some strange reason, that you had it. Why is that exactly?"

Parker's eyes remained glued on the sheaf of papers she had been reading when he first entered. After a protracted silence, her assistant answered for her.

"That's because the patent stays with the department that dreamed up the invention in the first place. Security runs the curio-shops an' we're responsible for the merchandise, but then you shoulda already known that from your Daddy," Remy softly drawled.

"You're in control of the muscle that guards the annexes, nothing more, Tennessee," Lyle bit back.

"'Ah ain't from Tennessee an' all the losses from those shops come out of _our_ budget, not Marketing's."

"Give me the patent, now," Lyle replied threateningly. His patience was dangerously short and Parker's insolent lackey had already managed to push him to the edge. The tone of his voice alone was enough for him to gain what he had been seeking all along—Parker looked up.

"What's the matter, Lyle? Wake up on the wrong side of the corpse this morning? What do you need with the patent? _I'm_ the one who has it."

Parker's sarcasm boarded on haughty indifference. He wanted to smash someone's face in and the tall Southerner was about to get a taste of his anger. Lyle was on the verge of acting on the sudden rush of violence that courted his senses with a seductive pull. A loud, abrupt noise broke his concentration and caused him to look around confusedly.

"Lyle, I've been out sick for the past couple days and my mood isn't much better than yours. I'll have my secretary walk over a copy of the patent to your office this morning. Right now, I'm too busy to be bothered by you. Now, leave," she stated sternly. The palm of her hand was still smarting from slamming it down hard on the top of her desk to distract her twin who was obviously gearing up to attack Remy.

Lyle looked in his sister's eyes and saw the cool rage his near attack on her little boyfriend had caused. He was surprised that it wasn't enough. Enough of what exactly he wasn't sure of either. Reflexively, the sociopath gave his sister an inappropriately intimate smile as he turned on his heel to leave. He toyed with the idea of tricking her somehow into physically attacking him. Somewhere in his twisted brain he understood that this wouldn't solve what was ailing him but it would be closer than anything else he had tried. For now, a quick work-out and sparring session in the Centre's gym should set things straight once again.


	13. Did you lose something?

**Disclaimer:** Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statements.  
**Author's Note:** For any who are still confused about the release trigger, all I can ask is to re-read Chapter 7 more carefully, concentrating on the part that involves the experiment.

**Mission  
Impossible**

**(Chapter 13  
Records and choices)**

_**Dr. Thackery's Office  
The Centre  
Level 6  
Blue Cove, DE **_

Preparation was the name of survival in this nasty business. Modesty read through the report from Sydney—the one he had been given to evaluate. The reading was similar to what she had been given. In reading between the lines and from going over the historical data she had lifted from Thackery's office, she was able to reverse engineer the psychological ramifications of what the "treatments" were doing to the victims. Leaning back, Modesty shook her head in grim understanding. Victims were exactly what each and every person who had undergone this therapy ending up being. From her research Modesty came to some concrete conclusions. Every person given the therapy wound up with a pressure release trigger. As the pressure from the therapy began to build in the victim's brain, the person would eventually stumble upon the release mechanism they had subconsciously created. The only other alternative to releasing the pressure was violence. Any sort of violence would do but if the victim's physiological make-up didn't previously have a violent bent then guilt, frustration and anger would begin to eat away at their basic morality. However, anyone who could get close enough to the victim could relieve them of the pressure by using the relief trigger. The only way for the administrating clinician to know what the patient created as a release trigger was finding it out directly from the patient. If that didn't work then having a loved one whom the patient trusted would be the only other way of finding out. This still left the question of what was the Centre doing and why was it doing it? Where could there be a profit and how on Earth did they plan on marketing such evil? These musings solidified in Modesty a driving desire to put Thackery out of business and to take whatever he had discovered/created out of the dangerous hands of the Centre. She took care in planning her next steps at the Centre.

Modesty had a busy morning but smiled at the inroads she had already made. Her make-up had been applied with extra care and she dressed in clothes whose color and style she felt sure would attract his attention. She drew several appreciative stares as she walked through the hallways and to his office. Not bothering to hide her smile at catching him in, she greeted her target appreciatively.

"Good morning Dr. Cox. I was hoping to find you in. Dr. Thackery hasn't given me much to do this morning. I hope you don't mind that I dropped in for a quick visit?"

Cox looked up at first suspiciously but the harshness of his expression eased considerably under the assault of both her suggestive smile and innocuous reason for being there.

"Hello Jennifer. You're more than welcome to visit anytime. So where is Thackery? Don't tell me he lets you wander about all by your lonesome and without an escort? The Centre is full of wolves who all have nasty bites," he replied with a small smile and hungry eyes.

"Dr. Thackery isn't in yet. I like keeping busy and you did say that if I needed anything you would be happy to help."

Cox treated her to an unsettling stare for several seconds. Rising from his seat he slowly came around his desk as he asked, "You have an excellent memory. There is something that I am curious about. What exactly does Thackery have you doing when you _are_ busy?"

Modesty was ready for this. From the obvious acrimony between the two doctors, she easily surmised that one was looking for any advantage over the other. The trick was to insouciantly insert herself into their petty squabble to get what she wanted without them being aware of her true ulterior motive—access to the patient's identities.

"I finished psychoanalyzing a patient file which I must admit is a rather optimistic term because I wasn't allowed to interview the person. I've never encountered anything as strange as this. I'm also curious about this study. What outcome are you hoping to achieve?"

"You mean he hasn't told you?" Cox asked with a straight face. He half expected that fool Thackery to tell his comely assistant everything from the true scope of this mockery of a medical trial to what he had for breakfast last month. "I would've thought from reading the file that the expected outcome would be obvious, especially for one as well trained as yourself."

Modesty laughed indulgently. Cox was testing her and he didn't seem to care if she were fully aware of it. "Oh yes, I am well qualified but even Carl Jung would've had a hard time telling heads from tails with that blacked out and edited mess of a file. Like I said, psychoanalyzing a file is hardly a precise business, dealing with real live patients is challenging at best. Trying to do it under these conditions is more like putting together a puzzle with only the middle pieces, half of which are missing."

"All I can say at this time is that it's necessary for this project to remain classified. Very few in the Centre know about it at all. It would be prudent for it to stay that way, but back to the reason for your visit. I would be more than happy to show you around this mausoleum if you like. It has a kind of macabre charm all its own."

Modesty once again, smiled suggestively and answered, "Dr. Thackery will be here in another 30 minutes. Perhaps sometime after lunch, if you're free of course."

"I look forward to it."

Thackery strolled into his office looking confident and well at ease with himself. All was going to plan and he was proud of the work he had been able to accomplish. His feeling of well being wouldn't last long.

Modesty, as usual, preceded the doctor into the office by over an hour. After her 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' routine she had with Dr. Cox, she had implemented her own play to get Thackery to give up where he was keeping his current patient records. If he didn't have the expected reaction to what she had done, then it would mean back to the drawing board. If he did, then she had found her treasure—his patient records and proof of his current experimental horrors.

It didn't take long for the doctor to respond to her snare. Immediately upon sitting at his desk and stirring himself from his dreams of fame, fortune and revenge, he saw the state of his desk. But as troubling as this was, it was nothing to the other missive Modesty had left behind. She was soon summoned into his office so loudly, that she was sure everyone in the building heard him.

"What the hell happened here?" he questioned both accusingly and fearfully.

"I don't know, doctor. Is something the matter?"

"It's obvious that something has happened. Someone's been in here and has searched through my things!!"

"Really?" she asked looking down at the mess on his desk. Her trained eyes had already spotted the fact that all his booby traps had been triggered and a small sample of blood had also been artfully left behind for effect. She wondered how long it would take for him to figure the rest out.

"Look at this mess!" he demanded angrily.

"Honestly, doctor. Your desk is usually messy. How can you tell that anyone's even touched it?" she replied innocently.

"Hold out your hands," he ordered irately.

"Excuse me? Why?" she asked with convincing befuddlement. "Perhaps it would be better if I called security."

"Go ahead and do that. And when you're finished with that call, hold out your hands so I can see them properly."

Modesty turned to call from her office phone when the petulant doctor called her back. "No use this phone, I want to hear what you say to them."

Using one hand, she made the generic call to the security division requesting that a supervisor or someone higher was needed urgently in Dr. Thackery's office. When she hung up, Modesty hid her hands behind her back refusing to say or do anything further until the requested, impartial security personnel responded.

Ten minutes later, a thin, wiry man came into the outer office and walked through to Dr. Thackery's private office. He stood just inside the doorway and watched with growing curiosity as the doctor talked animatedly to himself while carefully looking through a messy pile of papers on his desk. Modesty immediately noticed the man but said nothing as she quickly studied his features and returned her pensive gaze on the doctor. Her mind was turned inward as she considered the new visitor. He was extremely handsome and the expression on his face said that he knew it. There was also a look of keen intelligence in his eyes, face and even in the way he held himself that gave the impression of unflappable cleverness. His hair was thick, dark, wavy and cut short. All his features were regular and graced with piercing green eyes. Looking at him made Modesty long for her single days.

"You lose something, Doctor?" Remy asked with a gentile Southern drawl.

In a panic, Thackery looked up at the sound of the new voice. "My office has been searched and important documents removed. I thought there was 24 hour surveillance in this cavern," he answered angrily.

"Yes sir, there's security here at all hours. What is it that you're missin'?"

"Is that the best you can do? I've just informed you of a security breach and I also specifically asked for a supervisor or above," Thackery insisted imperiously.

"Miss Parker is my immediate supervisor but she's busy at the moment in a meetin'. Instead of bothering her an' creating such a fuss over something that's probably been misplaced, why don't you tell me what's missing and me an' your assistant here will help you find it?"

"The documents are extremely sensitive and highly classified. I can't give you that information. Besides, I suspect that my assistant has had something to do with this."

"Really?" Remy replied finally looking appreciatively over at Modesty who was living up to her name.

Without saying a word and only offering Remy a shrug in resignation, she held up her hands to the Assistant Security Director and turned them over so he could see that her skin was neither cut nor scraped.

"Everything looks okay here. But before we start jumpin' to conclusions why don't you give me a hint of whatever it is you've lost an' where you last saw it."

"As I've said, it was an important document. That's all I can say."

"Was it by any chance in the office safe?"

"How did you know?"

"Well _if_ anyone had broken into your office, the smear of blood next to that painting makes it look as though they were searching for the safe, either that or carelessly leaning against the wall. The droplets of blood on top of your desk sort of rounds things out a bit. Why don't you open the safe and make sure everything's still there."

"What about a break in? Perhaps the guards saw someone skulking around my office?"

"Doctor, early this morning we ran a full system's check. Everything was clear an' nothing was out of the ordinary. It's not something we typically do but we were looking at some hacker tryin' to get into our computer system an' we ran that check as a precaution." Remy saw Thackery about to point out that he was right and before he could get the chance, Remy continued, "We set out some bait for our little hacker an' the system alerted us when he came to nibble—just like it was supposed to. Everything else that was done was as a matter of protocol. No one broke into the Centre, or any of our safes and absolutely no alarms were set off. Now doctor, how about you open the safe to see if whatever top secret thing you put in there is where it's supposed to be."

Sudden embarrassment gripped the doctor's face as he looked down at the mess of papers on his desk. The important document he had lost was the combination to the office lock. Modesty had it in her shoe but she had run out of time after finding the combination to look around for the safe.

"You don't remember the combination, do you Doctor?" Remy asked with a slight hardening to his tone of voice.

"No. That's what I had written down and it's gone."

Breathing a deep, overly patient sigh, Remy walked behind the desk and stooped down. He removed a section of carpeting and swiftly punched in his override code, opening the safe. He straightened up and stepped back allowing Thackery to take a look.

"Yes it's all here. Thank you. That is a relief. Is there any way you could change the combination for me? Just in case?"

"I'll have it e-mailed to you doctor. That way you shouldn't lose it," Remy drawled casually. Turning to Modesty he smiled coldly and added, "Did you have anything to do with the doctor's missing combination?"

"No, I didn't. I wasn't aware there was a safe in here. I assumed the doctor kept all his files in the lab safe," she replied steadily. Her explanation was plausible and pre-rehearsed.

"Makes sense. Doctor, before the next time something goes missing, why don't you have your assistant here clear off this mess so you can find things? My schedule is too full as it is to be distracted by your absent-mindedness and Miss Parker won't be too happy to find out that you lost the original combination."

Thackery sharply looked up in alarm and quickly answered, "There's no need to go that far. An e-mail is a better way to give me the combination and this time I won't write it down. I won't bother you with this again."

Without another word, Remy looked at the doctor, and then shifted his gaze to his pretty assistant. He stared at the woman for several seconds until catching her eye. When she gave him a halting smile, Remy nodded slightly to her and then took his leave.

"I told him that my office was broken into and all he bothered to do was open the safe. What about all this blood?"

"Well, it didn't come from me. Perhaps now you'll believe me. If I had tried to get into that safe the alarms would've sounded immediately," Modesty replied with haughty self-righteousness.

Remy heard a bit of their conversation as he opened the outer office door and rolled his eyes in irritation. The assistant didn't have a scratch on her but Thackery had several fresh scrapes on his hands to account for all the blood. Everyone thought his job was so easy but the same folks who convinced themselves they could do it better were equally afraid of little ole Miss Parker. Go figure.

_**Trader's Inn**_

_**Blue Cove, DE**_

Barney had heard enough. He had listened to a few of the conversations that Jarod had with his target and with each succeeding encounter the agent became more convinced that there was a lot more to Control's relationship with the beautiful security chief then he was letting on. Barney felt no shame in putting a bug on Jarod—it was part of their operational protocols but due to the nature of his conversations with Miss Parker and their growing intimacy, Barney kept his growing curiosity to himself along with details he overheard.

The last time they had a week of downtime, he and Jarod had gotten drawn into a private club's tennis tournament. After numerous laughs watching Jarod become acclimated to the sport, he had somehow managed to help Barney win the competition and then thought nothing more of it than being happy to help a friend. During that week, Barney learned a few important things about his friend. It was enough to secure his loyalty and solidify his esteem.

Jarod was busy listening to some old school music while reading Geoff's little black book of seduction when Barney found the opportunity of confronting Jarod about his relationship with Miss Parker without any of the others overhearing them. Geoff was busy being Miss Parker's sweeper. Modesty was still at the Centre while Jonas was out buying supplies for the team.

"So what's the story with you and Miss Parker? You two seem to have a lot of catching up to do. What's going on Jarod? Are you the one distracting _her_ or is she distracting _you_?"

Jarod looked up at the sound of his friend's voice and listened with a calm patience to his questions. "You've been monitoring my movements again. I realize it's part of the protocol, however, I would appreciate it if you would tell me when you're going to do it so I can at least be on my guard," he replied with a smile.

"When are you not on your guard?" Barney replied with an answering grin. "Look here, I'm not going to let you off the hook that easy. Tell me, what's going on?"

Jarod slowly closed the book while openly considering Barney's request. He liked the engineer and thought of him as a close friend. It would be good to voice some of the unexpected thoughts and feelings that had cropped up since they began this op. Parker had taken him aback with her own change of behavior. So much so that he felt the need to answer in kind. If he did then there was a distinct possibility that the op would be affected but not necessarily adversely.

"Miss Parker and I have known each other since we were children. We were introduced during a harmless experiment and became friends afterwards. By the time she entered her teens, Parker's father shipped her off to boarding school and that was the end of our friendship. By the time she came back, they had done a good job of turning her against me. Until then, I never thought they considered our friendship unsuitable. What followed was a morphing of our relationship from one of comrades to the contentious semi-war I outlined at the start of this op. Apparently a few things have changed since the last time I saw her."

"From what Geoff has been telling me about the woman, saying she's isolated was putting it mildly. He's been watching her fairly closely, which wasn't too difficult for him given her looks but he's heard some gossip that she has something going on with someone in her department. Maybe it would be wise to back off on the seduction angle."

"Really? I hadn't considered that possibility," Jarod answered softly. Within his chest there was a soft hiss and lick of jealousy tickling at his heart. It seemed whenever there was a remote chance of truly going beyond Parker's defense mechanisms, something or more appropriately someone always interrupted. Not this time.

Barney saw a determined look slide onto Jarod's face and silently breathed a sigh of relief. He had hoped that Jarod would go all the way with the seduction instead of being scared off by the assignment. Most of them had indulged in the occasional peccadilloes while on a mission—everyone except Jarod. Modesty was right, Jarod was wound way too tight and he needed someone he could be intimate with, someone with whom he could explore his complete emotional range and preferably someone who knew and understood him on a level that none of his colleagues could ever hope to reach. In some ways, Jarod was as isolated as the mysterious Miss Parker.

"Barney, keep this between us but I'm not going to be politically correct about her," Jarod said with a discontented frown. Holding Geoff's book up, Jarod waved it and said, "I was a kid when the Centre waved Miss Parker in front of me like a carrot on a stick. Well, this time around, Harvey's back for his damn carrot. I want her and nothing's going to stop me from trying, even if I end up being her personal pooka to do it."

"She's a beautiful woman. Just don't let yourself get too carried away. Things don't always work out the way we plan, especially where women are involved."

Jarod looked over at his friend and nodded solemnly. Already things hadn't worked out the way he planned. He expected to find Parker an angry and embittered woman at loose ends with her father's death and perversely tied to the madman who had murdered her mother. Parker was a changed person but the anger seemed to have dissipated along with her dead father's influence. During that time, Parker hit some unknown reset button that superseded the Centre's brainwashing and teachings.

"Let's just hope whatever the reasons are for her new found resolve, that they are stronger than her old habits," Jarod replied.


	14. The Carrot

**Author's Note:** I can only offer apologies for the length of time it has taken me to post this next chapter. Life has been challenging to say the least. Hopefully it won't take as long to write and post the following chapter(s). To answer the question from the last chapter, the team members don't know of Jarod's true origins.

**  
Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 14…  
the carrot)**

_**Parker Residence  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Every evening of the following week Jarod made sure to set up a different activity to share with Parker. Dinner was usually the underlying reason, but that didn't deter him from varying the places they went to or any entertainment that preceded it. From eating at a club, to enjoying a children's play held at a local elementary school, Jarod found the advice from Geoff's book very useful and on a whole, surprisingly effective in keeping Parker off balance.

For Parker, a solid week of seeing Jarod, having dinner in out-of-the-way places, being dragged to a museum exhibit one evening and then the next night to a tension-releasing batting cage where Jarod sensuously corrected everything from her stance to her grip on the bat. He laughed appreciatively after she wordlessly demurred, and then immediately hit what amounted to 5 consecutive home runs. Every outing turned out to be something very much out of the ordinary for her. Every evening after work promised a new adventure and she couldn't help but secretly admit that she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Jarod was very gallant, constantly courteous with an added touch of aloofness. He drew her in and attracted her like never before then turned around and held her at arms length as though he didn't want her to think that any change of heart on his side would be an easy feat.

Keeping Parker at arms length had become essential because otherwise Jarod knew he would've lost all composure and shown her how much he desired her. There were a number of times that he had almost had—the temptation was just that great. What continued to increase his draw to her was something he had always wanted but found difficult to achieve…they finally talked without painful revelations, recriminations or playing the hunter/prey rolls that had been thrust upon them. Every evening they went out provided another opportunity of getting to know each other better. And the temptation kept growing. In response, Jarod opted for casually prodding her to see how close she would allow him. There were a few times when he attempted to kiss her only to be met with passive resistance, but persistence paid off and after a couple days when it was clear that she would allow him to kiss her, Jarod pecked her chastely on the corner of her mouth—much to her surprise. He continued to slip in that kiss so that by the end of the week, Jarod had gotten her accustomed to being chastely pecked good night. This also was an example to the teetering balance he managed to maintain between deeply interested desire and his carefully, calculated aloofness. By tacit agreement they kept any displays of affection strictly private.

Being in Parker's life meant a disruption of her routines. Still she managed to arrive home at a reasonable hour after her twice weekly fencing practice. Her face was flushed from the exercise and she paused briefly when she saw him lounging in the shadowed portion of her front porch.

"You're keepers seemed so bored hanging around with nothing to do. So I made sure they took a well deserved nap. I've been waiting for over an hour, did you enjoy the workout?"

"You've been following me," she concluded with an infinitesimal smile while she unlocked the door.

"I discovered your aptitude with the rapier quite some time ago. It's interesting to know that you've kept practicing," he replied with unintentional gravity.

"Wonderful. Is there anything about me you don't know?" she asked half laughingly. "Some part of my life you haven't poked you curious nose through?" There were still a few things about herself that she would rather no one knew.

"Plenty," Jarod answered breezily as he got up from his seat. "There's a lot about you that I don't know about. All of which I look forward to discovering when you are willing to reveal it." He said this in a whisper, implying a soft, seductive offer.

The hint of dread that was just starting to nibble at her stomach, eased completely away as she gave a soft huff of a laugh and pushed the door open. Jarod's constant and smarmy attention did a poor job of concealing his true interest. In return, she proved to be far more adept at hiding her attraction to him. It had been a long buried fantasy of hers to have engaged his interest and desire. Unintentionally, she revealed only a part of what was going on in her mind when she had that Freudian slip back in the early days of their chase when she, Broots and Sydney were forced to hang around in a cheesy motel room waiting for a clue while Jarod played out his Death Row pretend. Nothing had changed except she took pains to further sublimate what she dismissed as a childhood dream. As a result, her efforts neither altered nor erased her fantasies, if anything the years, hardships and heartbreaks exacerbated her subliminal fantasies and turned them into desires.

Jarod followed her inside the house, deeply breathing in her perfumed wake. The balancing act of keeping abreast of his mission and team while keeping track of Parker was taking up all his time and playing havoc with his emotional equilibrium. The only thing that could truly mess things up now was his burgeoning passion towards his target on this mission. He thought he had dealt with her and his old feelings for her. In truth he had, what Jarod hadn't faced was the fact that she still attracted him in much the same way as she had done when they were children. The past week of wining and dining her had confirmed all his suspicions. He was now dealing with the adult version of his old friend and not the angry shell the Centre had created and trained into corporate servitude. On impulse, he walked up behind her, reached out and pulled Parker bodily in a tight embrace. She tensed instinctively but then relaxed with a satisfied smile.

"Where are we going tonight?"

"How about a night in, without all the distractions of being surrounded by other people?" he whispered seductively in her ear.

"Sounds nice but I don't feel like cooking. Why don't you put a couple frozen dinners in the microwave while I freshen up?"

"Your wish is my command."

"Yeah, right Jarod," Parker replied with a laugh as she reluctantly disengaged herself from his grasp. With one squeeze, he had yet again released most of the pressure that had been building up in her skull. She didn't understand why that worked on her headaches, she was just thankful to have something that did. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Parker went along with the flow as was her habit, not questioning too deeply into the whys of what was going on with the headaches. Eventually, she knew she would have to deal with the problem but felt fortunate that Jarod seemed determined to try irritating her by giving her hugs. It wasn't something she initially encouraged, granted, but she didn't mind humoring him, as she playfully elbowed him away.

Jarod stared hard at her inviting smile as she retreated to her bedroom. It was Barney's warning piece of information that stopped him from following her. There were still too many obstacles and questions floating in his mind for him to act freely on his impulses. Besides, Geoff's book warned against delving too quickly into sex when you had the victim right where you needed them.

Fifteen minutes later, Parker emerged from her bedroom relaxed and refreshed from her shower. The welcoming scent of dinner drifted from the kitchen as she entered it. With an indulgently friendly smile she stated, "From pillar to post and back home again, eh Jarod?"

"That's the way our chases used to end up. Why mess with a good formula?" he replied sharply.

She paused at his words and tone, wondering where this unexpected hostility was coming from. He liked keeping her on edge but there was a quality of angst in his voice that hadn't been there before. Nodding reasonably to herself she answered, "Whenever things start getting too unfamiliar, people tend to retreat to the old, accepted and comfortable. What's going on in that head of yours? Are you starting to want things you used to think were too repulsive?"

"You think I view you as repulsive, Miss Parker?" he replied incredulously. With a conscious smile he said softly, "I've never felt that way about you. Blind, insolent and entirely too obedient to your masters, yes; repulsive, no."

A thoughtful expression caressed her features as Parker sat at her place. "As amusing as our past sparrings have been, I'm tired. It's been a long day and I'm not in the mood to resume our old habits." Parker leaned back and stared resolutely at Jarod. If he continued, she would leave him alone in the kitchen and go to bed behind a locked bedroom door. If she had wanted this sort of company she could simply go to the Centre and strike up a conversation with the resident, wheezing gargoyle.

Jarod caught the set look on her face but there were a few things he needed to know. He had unintentionally committed himself and there was no turning back now. "I don't blame you for not wanting a return to our old ways. But I suspect there are a few things that never change."

Parker had started eating and with a full mouth, shrugged and took a sip of wine. "There are some things that should never change. It's all well and good to effect change where it's needed. But in some cases a little bit goes a long way."

They finished the meal with sparse conversation. Jarod was trying to figure out a way to broach a gut-wrenching subject. The thought of her with someone else hurt like hell but he wanted her to be happy. They both had suffered so much pain and loneliness in their lives that he wouldn't deny her any shot at true happiness. Still he wanted to know, needed to understand what was going on with her.

"Parker, I want to know something."

"You mean there really is something you don't know? Enlighten me," she answered half-mockingly as she started carrying dishes from the table into the kitchen.

"I've heard some Centre gossip and I'm wondering if there's any truth to it," he replied evenly. His tone of voice caused her to turn around to look at him.

"What have you heard?"

"That you're involved."

"Involved in what?"

"Someone you work with. Someone close to you," he replied softly glancing briefly away.

Parker's face was a blank. "What are you talking about?"

"You're having an affair with someone at work," he finally answered fully. The closed look on his face should have told her the rest.

A quick frown suffused her features as she continued staring at him. When it finally dawned on her what he was saying she answered, "You've heard a rumor that I'm seeing someone from work?"

"Yes. I'm guessing it's probably the man you were with earlier today."

"Earlier?" she asked aloud to herself while she searched her befuddled memory. Then it all came clear and settled in her mind. "Oh you mean when I went out to lunch. So you're _stalking_ me—as opposed to following me?"

"No. I was at the Centre to see what upgrades had been made to the perimeter sensors when I saw you leaving in a Town Car. I followed to see what you were doing."

"It's good to admit things you know—something about taking a first step," Parker stated as she stared at Jarod closed features.

"It was only that time when I followed you. So are you?" he asked angrily frustrated by her half answers.

This was the last straw. Parker could no longer prevent the smirk on her face from showing. Holding it in for so long transformed what originally started out as an indulgent smile into a full fledged grin. "Let me get this straight. You saw me leave the Centre with a man, who happens to be my assistant by the way, and you assumed that I'm in a relationship with him?"

"No. My contact inside the Centre heard that you were involved in a relationship and then I saw you with him. He seems to be your type."

A soft chuckle escaped her, as she looked at her plainly jealous old friend. "Okay, Jarod, now he's my _type_?" she asked incredulously, leaning further away from him.

"He's good looking and seems charming. I could see what would attract you. At the restaurant, he had the waitress eating out of the palm of his hand. Why didn't he check in on you when you were sick? "

"You were spying for quite a while, weren't you?" Parker's eyes were dancing with amusement. "He's my assistant and yes we were having a _working_ lunch together. Remy is my _employee_, Jarod. He's not my lover."

"Really? But you two seemed very friendly," he replied weakly. Uncertainty began to erode at his jealous confidence.

"Unlike Lyle, I generally don't go around beating-up on my staff. You're jealous? Over Remy?" she asked with the delighted smile widening further.

"Jealous? No. I was concerned because he didn't seem to be treating you too well. He didn't even call you."

"He did call me but some crazy genius switched my phone to silent mode. No, you're pissed off because you're jealous."

"He did call you?"

"I think I like you all jealous and possessive. I've never seen this side of you, Jarod."

Jarod felt himself blushing and looked away trying to think of a way out of his embarrassment. At this rate, he could've taken an ad out in the paper declaring his love for her. The fat grin on her face was very satisfied, like a Cheshire cat.

Parker watched Jarod's face blush as he looked away with embarrassed misery. She reached up, wrapping a hand around his neck and kissed him fully. Jarod was too surprised to respond quickly and as he would've liked but looked at her in astonishment when she gently pulled away.

"Better?" she whispered with a seductive smile.

Jarod returned her smile and answered with an irrepressible bashfulness, "Yeah."

"You can go now but expect to be teased about this the next time I see you."

With a relieved and thoughtful smile on his face, Jarod nodded and quickly left. He waited till he was some distance from her house when he pulled over into the cover of the woods. Jarod got out and leaned back against the car looking up at the star-filled sky. A large, happy-kid grin was on his face as he clutched his hands into fists and mouthed a victorious, 'Yes!


	15. A Voice

**Disclaimer: ** Please see Chapter 1 for the usual verbiage.  
**Author's note:** Thanks for hanging in there with me. Things haven't really gotten any better but I have some bits of free time to continue writing this story.

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 15**  
…**did I hear something?)**

_**Main Promenade  
The Centre – Midday  
Blue Cove, DE **_

They stood on a balcony above the hustle and bustle of the promenade. The undulating crush of humanity entering, leaving and traversing between wings of the complex was much like watching an army of insects busily working and doing their part to keep the hive alive and healthy. Sydney stood at the second floor railing, standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes on the employees below.

"This place is so big. When I first applied, I knew it was a multi-national corporation, I just didn't realize how large it was physically as well as in business." Modesty said as she approached him.

"Yes, it's humbling in its own way. The Centre has dozens of branches, subsidiaries and partner companies that provide a myriad of services. Everything from medical to military is in someway either researched and/or provided for by the corporation. Lot's of fingers in too many pies. How are you settling in?"

"As well as can be expected. Dr. Thackery was satisfied with my analysis of his patient."

They fell silent as they watched the bustle below them. A large group of sweepers were gathered in the promenade forcing everyone else passing by to go around them. The group seemed impenetrable until it suddenly parted allowing a lone figure through.

Leaning forward, Modesty stared at the woman she had heard so much about. As if she felt the scrutiny, the woman looked up suddenly as though searching for the source. Rather than looking away, Modesty gripped the railing a bit tighter and stared intently at the woman. With a start, she realized the returned scrutiny was aimed at someone else. Modesty looked over towards Sydney in time to see the elderly psychiatrist nod his head in acknowledgement. Another glance at the woman and Modesty saw her gaze shift. For a moment, their eyes met and Modesty got a first-hand taste of the Security Director's piercing intelligence. It was easily apparent how sharp and guarded the woman was and there was something else about her that Modesty found unsettling but couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. Anger, pique, frustration—nothing quickly came to mind that would define Parker's underlying expression to Modesty's satisfaction. Anyone looking at her and knowing they were on the opposite side knew she would be one hell of a tiger. Jarod most definitely had his hands full.

"I've heard so much about her and mostly in whispers. Do you know her…personally, Sydney?"

"Yes. Miss Parker was raised in and around the Centre for most of her life. I've known her since she was a little girl." He stepped back suddenly and began moving towards his office.

"So that _was_ the lady herself. People around here seem divided in their opinion—either they hate her because of the power she wields or they envy her because of her beauty and bitchiness, which I'm told she carries over with some panache."

"Her father was once in charge. In appearance, she's a carbon copy of her mother who was also a Centre executive, so I believe her parents are primarily responsible for her attributes. Her temper is something she developed all on her own. Unfortunately, jealousy often has no idea of the pain its object has suffered to obtain the illusion of what is desired."

"Illusion? She's beautiful Sydney. You would have to be blind not to see that. Also, I thought the _current_ Chairman is her father," Modesty asked quietly.

"I've misspoken. Perhaps it happens more with age. If you'll excuse me," Sydney stated with a courtly, if mysterious smile.

No way was she going to let him get away with saying something so provocative and then dropping it in the middle. Modesty frowned for a second before falling into step beside him. With an answering smile she said, "That was an intriguing statement or misstatement for one so precise. You haven't said anything different than what others are already whispering. I suppose being Security Director has a great deal to do with the fear I hear in those mutterings."

"Miss Parker is a very intelligent, driven and intuitive woman. On the surface, she seems dangerous and angry. In her case, looks don't lie. It would be best to stay on her good side or better yet, avoid attracting her attention," he replied with a sly smile neatly ignoring her implied question.

"The men who work here seem to be perversely attracted to her, like moths to a flame. It would be fun to see a few of them get burned. You on the other hand don't seem intimidated at all."

Sydney gave a fond chuckle as he continued to lead her back to his office. "I'm too old to be of any romantic interest and too stuffy for Miss Parker's tastes. On the other hand, just working here disqualifies even her most ardent admirers. She rarely ever mixes business with pleasure."

Modesty entered Sydney's office and looked at the intimate cluster of framed pictures on his desk. Choosing a small one that was hidden between two larger pictures of what appeared to be the psychiatrist's family; she picked it up and looked at it. As usual, her instincts were unfailing. The smaller picture was one of a younger Miss Parker, dressed for a formal and sporting a beautiful smile. "Ah, I see you're more of a fatherly figure, Sydney?" she asked with a smile.

"Parker rarely visits my corner of the Centre any longer, that's why it's there. A long time ago, I asked her for that photo, I doubt she remembers giving it to me. She was seventeen at the time and had her whole life in front of her." Modesty looked more closely at the photo and recognized the Princeton University crest on a program being held up by someone in the background. The orange graduation tassels and black gowns worn by most of the bystanders and draped over Miss Parker's arm indicated that it was graduation day. It seemed that Miss Parker was a natural over-achiever as well.

"The Chairman isn't too involved in her life, I take it?"

"The Chairman has never been involved with her. Most old-timers around here find it difficult to believe that he's truly her father. Parker and I are friends however, she's been tied up with being director of worldwide security and according to the rumor-mill; merchandising will be hers soon as well. It does my heart good to see her advancing in her career even if it doesn't allow her much free time to visit dottering old shrinks." Sydney wondered silently why the young psychiatrist was so interested and how she had so quickly managed to get him to talk about things he rarely discussed with anyone else.

"Being so beautiful should keep her social calendar quite full."

Holding his hands up, Sydney mockingly surrendered. "Beauty has its drawbacks. Enough talk about Parker. How is the project developing? Has Dr. Thackery revealed any more details of his experiments?"

"No. The other day he tried to blame me for stealing the combination of his office safe. He still looks at me suspiciously even after security proved that nothing had been touched. So, talking to him about his secrets is out of the question. What I can tell you is that whatever experiments he had planned seems to be going forward."

"I've been trying to identify his guinea pigs but so far I haven't had much success. Too much vital information was left out for me readily figure out who they are but I have a bad feeling about this. However, the data you had on the injections provided me with an even more disturbing picture. The induction chemical being used is a part of a family of compounds that hasn't been researched much. The Centre is and has been involved in many chemical and pharmaceutical research projects and this group of compounds is one of them. About two decades ago, we conducted some extensive trials and testing with the aid of some of the brightest minds available," Sydney began, thinking fondly of his former protégé.

"The problem with these chemicals is that they have rather disturbing effects on the hypothalamus and the psychological stability of the patient."

"Would Dr. Cox know their true identities? He seems to hate Dr. Thackery, perhaps we could enlist his help," Modesty pondered aloud. There wasn't any chance that she would come at Cox straight-on with her questions and expect an answer from him, but she wanted to see what Sydney's reaction might be—she wasn't disappointed.

"So you've met Dr. Cox. What do you think of our resident head of medical services?"

"He's handsome, powerful and if we can keep this between us, a trifle bit scary," said she with a shaky smile.

"Yes, he does scary very well. Some women find that very attractive," Sydney replied with a smile as he sat and leaned back in his chair, giving Modesty an appraising stare.

"Perhaps but as distracting as that can be my real goal is to help those in need. And from what little I've read from the blacked-out files we've received, this kind of medical research is the last thing these unwitting "volunteers" need. When your plate is already full, having someone else heaping on a heavy load is enough to push anyone over the edge." When she received no answer, Modesty continued, "I want to help these people Sydney. I can't imagine what it would be like if all of a sudden my body began to betray me for no reason. That I began to feel ill or started having mood swings without any warning. And those side-affects, my God," she said with a genuine shiver, while thinking of the experiments done on the African patients.

"Side-affects? No one's told me anything about side-affects. Do you know what they are?"

"From what I've read, the side-affects vary only in the details in each individual. Reading what Dr. Thackery's prior psychiatrist wrote in his preliminary report, there's something called a trigger which each person forms as a type of defense mechanism. The patient's body of course is being assaulted on a genetic level and the psychology of this assault is immediately processed subconsciously as a threat. The result is a sort of pressure that constantly builds up in the patient urging him to act. The only thing that can be done to relieve the pressure build-up and its physical manifestation—pain in this case, is to activate the psychological trigger that was formed. After that, the patient enjoys some momentary relief from the pressure."

"Momentary relief? And what are they being urged to do?" Sydney asked with mounting horror.

"The relief is temporary and then the pressure build up begins again. The speed of the build up is different for each person but according to the other psychiatrist, the relief can last anywhere between 12 and 20 hours."

"What are they being urged to do?" Sydney repeated insistently.

"I don't know. As I've said, I was reading incomplete notes. Dr. Thackery has the rest under lock and key," Modesty replied smoothly. Her half-lie wasn't missed by Sydney whose imagination was only too happy to infer the worst from Modesty's scenario.

"Thank you, Jennifer. If you find out any further, please let me know. I want to help these people as much as you." Sydney replied solemnly. He would find another way to get at the information about this so-called trigger. Gaining Jennifer's full trust was only one way.

Modesty knew a dismissal when she heard one. She slowly got up and paused briefly to stare at the elderly psychiatrist. There was no way of knowing the specifics of what the patients were being urged to do. The scary part was that with the pressure building up—unchecked, those poor souls would be driven to do almost anything for relief. Jarod had warned them that the Centre was all about control. If what she suspected was true, then complete control over another's actions could be accomplished and permanently secured without impairing the patient's cognitive abilities—scary stuff indeed.

Lyle stared at his feet miserably. The pain was intolerable and getting his twin angry had done nothing to relieve it. Like a frightened animal, he sat on the floor curled up in the darkened office, hoping, wishing, almost praying for the pain to end. The office door opened slowly and silently. The soft tread of footsteps made their way over to Lyle's desk. Nothing moved for several seconds, until he felt the intruder's eyes on him.

"_Don't be afraid. I'm here with you."_

Lyle closed his eyes and a slow moan of agony escaped from his lips. The visitor heard him and walked over, staring down at the stricken executive.

"_Don't be afraid. Soon. Soon you will get help."_

Lyle curled up even tighter, no longer caring that there was a visitor standing over him, no longer caring about anything. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on a face, a nose, a mouth. The old exercises he had been given when he was a kid in Raines' terrible care, came back to him as a last resort. He visualized his foster father's face and imagined it decaying before his eyes, the flesh decomposing and falling thickly to the floor. Slowly his heart rate slowed and his fear melted down some, but the pressure was still there. Several seconds went by before he felt a hand softly caressing his hair. He flinched at the touch.

"_Don't be afraid. I'll always be here with you."_

Barely aware of the contact, he felt a soft hand gently brush his sweaty hair from his brow and smooth its way to the nap of his neck. He could smell her perfume and was aware of the gentleness of her touch. It was there in his imagination where he would go as a small child. He would feel safe, protected and loved. Heaving a sigh of relief, Lyle relaxed and moved his head so the woman's palm cupped his overly warm cheek, as the pressure that had been building up for days, unexpectedly released him. Everything was still, quiet, dark and safe. Lyle was free as he covered her hand with his own.

"_I'll never leave you. Never again."_

With a start, Lyle sat up straight. The pain in his head was blissfully gone and it seemed the symptoms of the cold that wouldn't leave, abruptly abated. He looked around confusedly and saw who had entered the room.

"_Always here." _

"Why do you keep saying that? Why are you hurting me?"

"Sir? I haven't said anything until now. Why would I hurt you?"

The blood rushed from his head as he stood up abruptly. Angry he would lash out and stop anyone from hurting him ever again. With amazing speed, he grabbed his secretary's arm painfully and was satisfied by the terrified and hurt expression on her face.

"_Never hurt you. Don't be afraid."_

"Sir, you're hurting my arm. I came in here because I thought I heard a noise. With your office dark, I thought you had already left for the day. Please, let me go."

It was then that Lyle understood. The two voices were different. His eyes were wide with confusion and fear as he released his grip and stepped away from his secretary. He couldn't believe what was happening. Lyle refused to acknowledge the truth of what had just occurred.

Despite her boss' strange and angry behavior, his new secretary rubbed her arm where he gripped it and staring hard into his face, asked, "Sir, are you alright? Should I call for a doctor?"

This last question recalled his attention and snapped him back to reality. "No. No, thank you," Lyle replied. Recalling himself fully he said, "I'm sorry. Are you hurt? I think I was still in the middle of a nightmare when you woke me."

"A nightmare? I-I'm alright now, sir. Are you sure you don't want me to call someone for you or get something. You look very pale."

"I'm alright," he said roughly. "You had better put some ice on your arm and take the rest of the day off." He had changed his tone of voice as he walked across the room and turned on the lights. "It's been a long day for both of us and I'm tired."

"Yes, sir. I will. Good afternoon," she said hesitantly. Lyle still had a stunned look on his face as though he had seen the specter of Christmas past.

When his secretary left, Lyle released a long, pent up sigh. He took his time sitting in his office chair. After staring off into space for several minutes, he recalled his attention once again and reaching into his desk, retrieved a bottle of Irish whisky and a glass. The burn of the liquor coursed a soothing path down his throat and in into his belly. It encouraged him to repeat the process several more times until he felt steadier and could fully convince himself that it was all his imagination.

Once he was past his crisis, the rest of the day went along in its usual patterns. By 8 o'clock in the evening, Lyle was ready to call it a day. Nothing else unusual happened and overall he was able to get through a number of meetings and finish most of the networking and overseas handholding that his job entailed. He was feeling so good, in fact that he felt as though he had engaged in one of his "purgings" as he privately called them when it became necessary in order to maintain his sanity to find an unwitting participant to engage in one of his sessions.

With a smile on his face and a mood to match, Lyle walked through the quiet halls of the Centre feeling like a new man. He almost stopped by his sister's office when an unfortunate memory of the morning cropped up to ruin his mood. His twin had been studiously indifferent and though angry had retained her composure. His efforts were further thwarted by her being surrounded by a clique of sweepers—one of which seemed ready to take him on if Lyle tried anything. Now that was unusual. Like a chameleon, his mood changed and his temper went south. That sweeper who challenged him, his name was Michael. He would make it a point to have a quiet little chat with Michael and let him know just who he had been dealing with. An unpleasant smile settled on his face as Lyle reached his car and got into the drivers' seat. That's when it happened again.

"_Don't be afraid. There's no reason to hurt him, he can't harm you."_

Bile rose in his throat and fear gripped him like an unseen force ready to plunge him back into that deep, black well of pain and loneliness. Swallowing hard, Lyle pressed himself against the leather of the seat and closed his eyes. The pressure in his head was still gone, nothing was there—it was still behind him. Earlier, as the hours went by, he had convinced himself that the voice he heard was in fact his secretary but right here and now, she was no where in sight. Out of habit, he had scanned the guarded Centre parking lot. No one was around. Ever since the Triumvirate had gotten high handed with its attempted theft of the scrolls, security had been doubled. His twin went so far as include the executive parking lot in the sweeper patrols of the grounds. So what was going on?

"_I've always been with you. I'll never leave you."_

"Oh my, God. No. Leave me alone. I'm not crazy, I'm not hearing anything," he whispered savagely to himself and the unseen owner of the voice.

"_Don't be afraid."_

"Why are you doing this, why are you tormenting me? I haven't done anything to deserve this!" Lyle declared with the start of tears running down his face. This time he was met with dissenting silence. With crossed forearms over the top of the steering wheel, Lyle leaned forward to rest his head. For most of his life he had been free. After Raines' "treatments" to increase his intelligence, Lyle had discovered an odd side-affect. The Voice that held him back, that chastised him whenever he lashed out at those who hurt him had vanished. The Voice that knew him like no one else, that comforted him in the night, through Mr. Lyle's closet shut-in punishments until the year he graduated from high school, had left him—he thought permanently. Lyle had never told anyone of the Voice. She had carefully trained him. Told him when he was sweet and when he was bad. This was how Lyle knew what parts of him were acceptable to others and which parts weren't. Nothing in Raines' training had done this. Lyle was convinced that the evil sociopath they called Chairman was puzzled about how Lyle could turn on the charm that Raines had never taught him. It had been the Voice. Raines made it go away and now she's back.


	16. Almost caught

**Disclaimer: **_Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statements  
_**Author's Note:**_ Thanks for reading and reviewing_

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 16**  
…**video cams and details)**

**__****The Centre  
Psychogenics Development Lab / SL-20  
Blue Cove, DE **

Modesty stared around at her surroundings with a creeping dread. This was the place where Dr. Thackery disappeared to so often. The lab where he worked on perfecting his gene-therapy/re-sequencing treatments. There were no Petri dishes, no lab rats, no animal trials, just straight from the development drawing board and into a human host. This was the stuff of nightmares. Grimly she thought that the only ones who would be happy with this arrangement would be the animal rights activists. At least the Centre could say with confidence that no animal had been harmed in the development of this treatment.

The room was dark and she prudently kept the lights off. Modesty was on a re-con mission to find out Dr. Thackery's local network password. From the paranoid look on his face when Security e-mailed his new office combination, she was sure he was starting to suspect them as well—which really was crazy. After fortuitously spotting the hurrying doctor when returning from the restroom, Modesty followed him to find out where his lab was located. It helped that all she needed to do was point at the hurrying doctor and say that she was his assistant. Today, with the use of a hastily drawn map from Jarod, which had her prowling down some rarely used corridors, she thought it would be wiser to arrive before the doctor in order to find a good vantage point from which she could visually eavesdrop on any typed-in network passwords. Hopefully he would lead her to his stash of patient records. She didn't have long to wait and got an additional surprise. A couple minutes passed when Thackery burst into the room, started turning on the lights and setting up his workstation. He had almost settled in at his computer and was on the verge of typing in his password when he got an unexpected visitor.

Dr. Cox appeared silently at the entry way of Thackery's inner sanctum. He stared for several seconds at his misanthropic colleague before clearing his throat to draw the other's attention.

"How did you find me here? What do you want? "

"I am the head of Medical Services and this lab is located within my domain. Now if you were working on a technological innovation and I were say, on the 8th floor in the international finance section, then your question wouldn't sound half as moronic. As it is, it did, you are and I want to know if this experiment of yours is ready for Phase 3?"

"I'm here under the express auspices of the Triumvirate. You're jealous because I invented this treatment and you're too thick-headed to even imagine the various applications and implications of a breakthrough of this proportion."

"Yes, indeed. The teat you're suckling this abomination on is quite influential to say the least. What you plan on doing when this so-called breakthrough falls flat on its face is the question. I've just received some follow-up information from Triumvirate Medical. The side-affects they report are staggering. How were you going to hush it up? By killing _all_ the unfortunates you claim to have cured?"

"As I've already said a hundred times, those were some of the earlier trials. My work here proves that those cases weren't a waste of time. What I've invented could save the lives of millions. The Triumvirate understands this. They are far more forward thinking than anyone here."

"Greedy is more like it. Has it ever occurred to you why the Triumvirate has demanded these trials be conducted here and not in Africa or Bangladesh, where the poor are more uneducated and expendable? Or why they have insisted that your subjects be perfectly healthy and normal? As a matter of fact, the criterion for your subjects' health was that of extremely healthy. Neither of them has suffered so much as a cold in the past couple years."

"The Triumvirate has its reasons which don't concern me," Thackery replied with fading confidence. When they had first proposed this trip to the U.S. the very thought of returning sent a shiver of dread through his bones. He honestly had wondered why the Triumvirate had been so insistent that the Centre be included in his trials. But after they had informed him that he would otherwise have carte blanche on this project as well as an open pocketbook, he readily agreed. Never again would he be given an opportunity to prove his treatment's efficacy.

"If anything untoward should happen to your human guinea pigs, rest assured, the Triumvirate will be very slow to react. Chairman Raines on the other hand might not be so hesitant—not that he will have much of a choice. After all, these are the Centre's money makers, without them the corporation would be facing some very hard times. Raines is banking his position in this corporation and probably his life, on your success and the possible outcome. I know for a fact that he likes to share his disappointment with his subordinates."

"So far, we've hit all the benchmark symptoms. Everything is going to plan. The next phase calls for a spotter to be introduced to help identify the trigger. We're ready to proceed now. I believe that is the main reason for this particular application."

Modesty noticed that Cox remained silent for several long seconds. His only reaction to Thackery's comment was a sardonic twist of the lips. Modesty also noticed the shift in Thackery's pronouns from 'I' to 'we'. Already he was feeling the pressure and Cox's observations hadn't been lost on the scientist.

"We have already recruited the most likely candidates. Though, for subject number one, it was trickier. We had to outsource the talent but we've conducted some preliminary background checks and have been assured of his discretion. Needless to say, he will be given only the barest of essentials to carry out his assignment."

"It's important to remember that figuring out the trigger won't be easy and any specifics should be known only by authorized personnel."

"So many euphemisms, doctor. Let's speak plainly, shall we? Our outsourcing friend will be terminated at the end of his assignment. There's been too much blood, pain and suffering done for the sake of this "medical breakthrough" of yours to try playing the innocent now," Cox replied obdurately.

Thackery remained silent as he stared back at Dr. Cox who nodded his head in mock salute to his colleague and made his exit. Modesty remained still, barely breathing during their exchange. What the shadowy Triumvirate was up to and the Centre's part in this horror of a plan was slowly becoming clearer. However the scope of the experiment was still completely unclear. If the Centre wanted more control over their employees, there were a myriad selection of options that would better facilitate such a goal. Going this circuitous route seemed too time consuming and costly for Thackery's treatment to be of any use. She was also puzzled by the Triumvirate's insistence that the test subjects be extremely healthy. Obviously they didn't have any confidence in the healing success of Thackery's 'breakthrough'. So what else could they be after? Cox certainly seemed to know—more so than Dr. Thackery, which was also strange. Modesty remained in her place for over an hour—a short time for Thackery who nervously felt compelled to leave. Cox's warning was given with all the sincerity of a lion staring hungrily at its prey. Just the right ring of truth and disdain to make it believable.

Fortunately for Modesty, Thackery had been deeply perturbed by Cox's manner. So much so that he absently typed in his password incorrectly—providing Modesty the time to properly set up the shot to record his key strokes.

**__****SL-20  
Blue Cove, DE**

Geoff had donned his newest disguise and so far had no problems moving in and about the Centre unchallenged. He was set up and ready with his phase of the mission. A false delivery ticket had been planted in the Centre's complicated import/export database. This part had to be done from the inside, since the servers were completely internal and not connected to an outside network. Jonas had informed him that Security changed the VPN code and separate access codes on an infrequent basis. Any employee caught entering too many bogus passwords were thoroughly investigated then terminated. If the system received an excessive amount of bogus access codes over a given time period, it automatically generated a set of protocols to identify the culprit and run a diagnostic.

The Centre's computer system had Jonas nodding with respectful agreement—not a common thing for him, however it was something that made Geoff shake his head in frustration. Jarod had told them this would be a tough operation and so far he had been right on target. Dealing with Parker's incumbent sweepers was indeed a challenge. From Michael's blatant jealousy and possessiveness over his prior job to Remy's vigilant wariness, Geoff was walking a tightrope each day. The fact that Parker had walked in on an argument he and Michael were having over an assignment she had given him, hadn't made matters any better. The Security Director had apparently watched them bicker for over 5 minutes before intervening on Geoff's side right when he was on the brink of showing up Michael's argument as being ridiculous. Geoff silently wished she had stayed out of it, his clinched jaw showed his anger but he stubbornly kept is mouth shut and expression blank which seemed to further irritate Michael because they both noticed Parker's nod of approval over Geoff's discomfiture. Each had their own agenda, he had wanted to handle the situation on his own—Parker wanted the report she had assigned him immediately.

Today was his only day off for the week and Geoff wanted to make the most of it. He had checked out the loading bay and double checked the schedule to make sure the entry he had made was still there. Once this had been done, Geoff spent some time on guard duty—boring stuff but it allowed him the opportunity of watching the precise timing of the shipping/receiving crew and the sweepers who were assigned to guard the cargo as it came and went. It was a tight operation where there was little room for deviation or improvising. On his break, Geoff continued his surveillance of the Centre by heading down to the sub-levels. His forged security clearance gave him permission to go where he pleased and he was never challenged once the color of his employee badge became visible. As he wandered the halls of Sub-level 20, he noticed a construction crew busily working as they tore out an enormous chunk of a rarely used corridor. Without pausing, Geoff obeyed the warning signs not to enter and followed the route laid out as a detour around the mess. Strange, like a crew of army ants, it seemed the Centre was constantly in a state of flux, always changing, growing and shrinking. It was during this foray when he spotted Modesty—in a high security area. Geoff watched while she worked the sweeper who was about to let her pass. An approving smile was just about to touch his lips when he spotted his boss approaching from an upper half-level with Remy resolutely by her side and two sweepers trailing in her wake—one of which was Michael. The look on Parker's face was less than amiable.

Once she was certain that Thackery had left, Modesty made her way down to the passage she came through only to find a construction crew had demolished a large portion of the corridor and limited access to the workers only. She was forced to find another way around her escape route but the construction was extensive and the detour the quickest way to get back to where she belonged. Modesty had just talked the sweeper into letting her pass giving a coquettish smile and thin excuse about Dr. Thackery when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise up suddenly. Through long experience, Modesty had learned to trust her instincts and reflexively she glanced around until her eyes met those of Miss Parker.

Up close, Modesty reluctantly had to admit to herself that the woman was indeed stunning. She could understand Geoff's drooling. Even the crappy attitude seemed to fit much like the exclusive Armani stripped pants and quilted jacket she was wearing. Modesty noticed that the Parker woman's eyes shifted from her to someone else. Following her line of sight, Modesty caught her first glimpse of Geoff wearing his disguise. It took her an extra second to recognize him—even though she had seen him wear the disguise during some practice runs. The masquerade was excellent but there was something about it that seemed to catch the Security Director's attention. Modesty knew her part in the mission was nearing to a close but Geoff's had hardly started. An instant's hesitation was quickly pushed aside as she moved slightly to walk around the Security Director and her entourage. The effect was immediate—as she intended it to be. The sweeper she had finished sweet talking to get out of the high security area, smoothly caught her arm to detain her. In a performance worthy of an academy award, she yelped in pain drawing everyone's attention—most importantly, Parker's. To hold the Director's attention, Modesty said loudly, "But I haven't done anything. I saw my boss come down here and I was looking for him."

Parker drew closer and stared at her with a disconcerting focus for several seconds. In a voice softer than Modesty expected, she asked, "Who are you? What are you doing down here? And who is your boss?"

For a second the urge to lie was almost overwhelming. Wisdom ruled and Modesty stuck to her cover replying, "My name is Jennifer and I work for Dr. Ben Thackery, he's the head of a special project being overseen by Dr. Cox and the Chairman. You're Miss Parker, aren't you? Sydney is very fond of you."

Memory assailed Parker and for a moment her face went blank as she remembered where she had first seen this woman, standing next to Sydney on the half level overlooking the main promenade. The severe look on Sydney's face told her that something was bothering him but as usual she had been too swamped in meetings, with finalizing some new contracts and special projects for her security branch, keeping updated on reports and in her office trying to keep pace with her hectic corporate life. Inevitably, any thoughts of Sydney usually led her to his former protégé, Jarod. It had been several days since she had seen the elusive Pretender. He had no problem calling her it seemed. And he was back to his old habit of calling her cell at night—this time he didn't wait till she was in the deepest part of her sleep cycle. Instead, he waited until she was ready to turn in to call and then it was to chitchat. Jarod's fireside chats usually lasted an hour if not more. It always took her weary voice and a protracted yawn to get him to hang up. He didn't really give her a chance to miss him but in fact she did. He was keeping her at arms length. When she mentioned that he seemed to be avoiding her company—he solemnly stated that he wanted whatever was happening between them to go slowly. This conversation occurred the previous night which resulted in an argument and Parker hanging up on his smug ass. He made it sound like she was working towards a crowing achievement for the Guinness book of world records—Sexual Conquest Edition. Though his conclusion had been uncomfortably close to home, the assumptions they were built on were made up of misconceptions. It felt good to hang up on him but she stayed up half the night tossing and turning because she admitted to herself that she did want him. In the morning her mood was foul, her temper quick and that irritating pressure in her skull kept building—which she also blamed on Jarod for not being his usual pain in the neck and getting rid of it for her.

"What are you doing down here? And by the way, dropping Sydney's name isn't cutting any ice with me."

"As I said, I was looking for my boss, Dr. Thackery. I was trying to follow him but he was too far ahead. I got lost because of the construction. I didn't know it was restricted."

"Where's your employee badge?"

"Oh, I have that. It's right here," Modesty's face brightened at the prospect as she began patting herself down. It took her several seconds to locate the pocket she already knew it was in. Sheepishly, she handed it over, "Sorry, I get nervous in situations like this. It kinda reminds me of getting pulled over by a cop."

Remy snickered at the reference, but Parker said nothing as she examined the temporary badge. "How long have you worked here?"

"Going on three weeks in all."

Abruptly Parker looked up and turned around to the place where Geoff had been standing but he had disappeared. This drew a thoughtful frown from Parker. Turning again to face Modesty, she said, "Every employee is given a map of the complex that shows which areas they have access to. Your supervisor would know where you're allowed to be. I think we'll need to call him in order to clear this up."

An involuntary flinch and the tiniest flicker of anger touched Modesty's eyes but she said nothing. Contacting Dr. Thackery would reveal that he had never showed her down here and there was no reason for her to be searching for him. Her cover would be blown and Modesty would probably be questioned and forced to leave the Centre with what little intelligence she had gathered. Parker noticed the signs of nervousness and knew there was something going on. Despite what she said about Sydney, the elderly psychiatrist's expression told her that this woman probably could tell more than she was willing to reveal. Balancing between attending an incident review meeting and looking into what could turn out to be a major problem caused Parker to hesitate, but only for a moment when her cell phone rang.

"What?" she answered in an irritated voice, not bothering to look at the caller ID. After a few protracted seconds she said, "Not now, I'm busy." She hung up the phone in a manner that could only mean she had cut the caller off.

"Bring her," she said to the sweeper who was still holding onto Modesty's arm. "We're going back to the main level to get to the bottom…." Before Parker could finish her cell phone rang again.

"What?!" she yelled into the phone. This time she listened with at first a puzzled expression which devolved first into incredulous and then softened into thoughtful pleasure. She began to move away and held up her hand to the sweeper to keep him from following. "Oh really? When?" she demanded into the phone. As she said this, she looked over to her assistant and wordlessly pointed to Modesty—a clear indication that she wanted him to finish handling the mess.

"Actually, I'm in the middle of two things and don't…." Parker's voice trailed off.

Remy glanced at his boss and then moved over to Modesty. "Long time no see, cher. Wat you doin' down 'ere?" he drawled.

"Trying to find out what my boss is doing. He's gotten so scretive, if you have to know. Why didn't you tell her that we've met before?"

"I woulda gotten 'round to it, eventually," Remy stated as he looked Modesty over appraisingly.

An unaccustomed sound echoed pleasantly through the dour halls—Parker had started laughing. "Right, we'll see about that. Yes. Yes. Alright, later." Parker hung up the cell phone and stared off into space for a brief moment. Whoever had been on the phone had cheered her up and changed her mood entirely.

"Remy, handle this. Take her back to where she belongs," Parker said evenly. Looking at Modesty she continued, "If it ever again comes to my attention that you're someplace you're not supposed to be, I'll have your ass thrown out of here and your Dr. Thackery along with you."

Remy jerked his head back up the stairs and the sweeper began to nudge Modesty in that direction with Remy following close behind. Parker watched them go up the stairs for a moment and then turned to Michael.

"I want every temporary badge thoroughly examined and compared against the personnel files we have. Anything that doesn't match, flag it and forward it over to me. And when I mean thoroughly checked, I mean a visual verification as well. I don't care if you have them lined up circling the building. I want a report on how many of those things we have floating around and recommendations on improvements. Any Tom, Dick or Harry with a decent scanner and laminating machine could just waltz in here. Also, schedule meetings with the security staff, half with me and half with Remy. The agenda is that no one sweet talks their way past any of my people. I don't care who it is or what they look like. For the temp badges, you'll need help, use Gregory—the new guy. He should have a temporary badge, so you might as well start with him and the two of you go from there. Can the bickering and get this done. And starting immediately, any new employees will have to have their badges stamped by security until the improvements are put into place. Increase the interior guard patrols and everyone is to stick strictly to protocol. Anyone else found violating protocols will be summarily searched and dismissed. All video records of their travels through the Center are to be obtained from Broots."

Michael neither flinched nor took notes. He committed her every sentence to memory and would make sure that her orders were carried out to the letter. It was his auditory memory and fanatical loyalty that made him an exemplary secretary. This was something Parker appreciated but would never share with him. Gregory, on the other hand was a quick study, didn't need a lot of direction and was a self-starter. Strange as he was, he would be keeping his position until Parker was satisfied with his advanced training to promote him to head his own sweeper team.

Remy paused and watched as Parker stood close to Michael giving him what appeared to be specific instructions. Something in Remy's gut didn't like this. She was doing something without telling him. Michael would be reluctant to reveal whatever it was she having him do, leaving Remy with only one solution—ask Parker what was going on in that complicated mind of hers.

In a heavily shadowed alcove nearby, Geoff used the opportunity Modesty provided in distracting Parker to disappear. She had been staring at him so hard that he felt he hadn't taken the proper precautions in maintaining his disguise. Judging from the tempo in Parker's voice, Geoff could tell that she wouldn't let Modesty go easily. If ever there was a time, this was it. Pulling out his cell phone, Geoff quickly text messaged Barney to get Jarod to distract Parker. At first the woman hung up on Jarod, which almost prompted Geoff to make another appearance. The second phone call did the trick. Jarod had her practically eating out of his hands. From his hiding place, Geoff smiled knowingly. Jarod had been reading the little book. One crisis averted but Geoff wondered what Parker was telling Michael. Like Remy, he didn't like the looks of it but caught himself. The Centre seemed to have that effect on all its employees—position possessiveness. He waited patiently until the corridor was once again clear to find his way out of the complex and back to the motel.


	17. Keeping promises

**Disclaimer: **Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statements.  
Thanks for reading! 

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 17**  
…**time off)**

**_Trader's Inn – Bed & Breakfast  
Blue Cove, DE_**

While Geoff, Barney and Jonas discussed the latest developments at the Centre, Jarod sat back in his chair, with his feet up on the low living room table and thought through the next steps of their plan. Everything had to go flawlessly and within the thin window of opportunity presented. They were ready, practiced and waiting. What worried Jarod was the conversation that Geoff had witnessed between Parker and her Sweeper-Secretary. No one had been within earshot and it was impossible to tell what she had instructed the sweeper to do. It always turned out to be the tiny, unexamined detail that seemed to effortlessly toss in the monkey wrench that screws the pooch in any plan.

Jarod reviewed his options: If he called off the weekend, then Parker would continue on with whatever she was up to and be thoroughly angry with him. Regaining lost ground with Parker would be a time-consuming, almost unattainable business. He already had the merest nibblings of guilt chewing at his decision. Over the past couple weeks he had gotten her used to having him around and keeping her company, now he was avoiding her. Keeping her on edge was a technique the book advised would be most effective. Jarod hesitated over employing this method because the people closest to Parker had managed to manipulate her by this means though for different reasons. She responded but because of her past experiences her reaction wasn't typical. As predicted, she perceived his avoidance as losing interest. The book stated "the victim would do everything in her power to hold on". Parker complained but then began to do the opposite—let go. Immediately, Jarod realized what she was doing—constructing the emotional barrier she used to keep from getting hurt. Out of necessity he began calling her every night and forced her to talk just before falling to sleep. That bit was his own idea. If she fell asleep thinking about him, subconsciously he would remain in her thoughts and the small crevice he had etched in her mind would continue to provide him with a way to get past her defenses. The fact that he liked talking to her made this gambit palatable.

The second option: Keep to his word and take her away for the weekend. Her plans would still go forward but without her input to improvise if something unexpected should happen—like his team kidnapping Thackery. The problem here was that he too would be unavailable to provide direction if something went wrong. Jarod had every confidence in his team but that little talk she had with her sweeper made him pause. His other problem was Parker—he didn't know if he would be able to withstand the temptation. It caused a pleasant flutter in his stomach that warned him of his growing desire but being unable to fully disengage his mind from thinking about her was a new, disconcerting wrinkle. Anticipating the upcoming weekend alone with her, only added fuel to the fire. He had never felt this way about anyone before. Knowing her reputation, having been chased by, shot at and on those rare occasions having worked with her, the very thought of having Parker to himself in a romantic context—incredible. But what orders had she given that Sweeper?

A disturbance from the other room drew Jarod out of his reverie and focused his attention on the new arrival: Modesty. Geoff had filled them in about what had occurred on sub-level 20. Modesty had been ready to fall on her sword to give Geoff a chance to escape, but her part of the plan was just as important. They needed to get the doctor's password to his computer which would give them access to all his files. If there were any patient files on that workstation, the operating system would tell them right away.

Modesty took another healthy pull on the drink Jonas had handed to her as Jarod entered the room. She glared unhappily at Control and sipped her drink again.

"I really needed that. Oh and by the way, I think you were looking for this?" she tossed Control the flash card she had used to record Thackery's password key strokes. "I'm almost positive that he's keeping his files on the computer, but that's not all. It seems that Dr. Cox knows more about this experiment than even Thackery." Modesty then told the group of the exchange she had witnessed between Thackery and Cox.

"You took an enormous risk hanging around like that. It was almost unacceptable—almost. But it tells us a lot," Jarod said with a significant nod as he turned the flash card over in his hand.

Everyone else in the room looked at him expectantly. Other than providing a few more details than they already knew, the rest of the team wondered what pearls Jarod was able to extract from Modesty's recon. When they remained quiet to hear his thoughts, Jarod continued, "You're right, it fills in a few of the gaps. The Triumvirate is using this so-called therapy for uses other than the one stated by its creator. Whatever this therapy provides, it's expected to improve cash flow. We're all aware that there are numerous and far more inexpensive ways to induce control and the illusion of loyalty chemically but those are short term. Could this therapy provide more long term effects since its operating on the genetic level? Does the genetic manipulation really have anything to do with what sounds like a side-effect? If the answer is yes to either question, the political and occupational ramifications are far reaching. Let's not forget that the Centre is primarily a profit driven business—much like any other Fortune 500 company. There are a variety of ways this so-called procedure could be employed in the corporate sphere and most likely in military applications. What it also does is complicate matters. Hopefully Cox's files will provide an answer to those questions. I'm glad Parker let you go—otherwise, she would have carried out her threat, searched you, confiscated this and had you thrown out. You're part isn't over yet, Modesty. I need you to start working on Cox. Within reason, get close to him and find out the location and if possible the name of his private computer—I doubt the one in his office will be of any use. He'll be like Thackery and keep his private files and records locally on a computer that has limited, but high security access to the Centre's network. I'm almost certain that Cox has a copy of all of Thackery's files prior to his arrival at the Centre. From the sound of it, this was the first time Cox has ever visited Thackery in the lab. Now that he knows which computer the doctor is working from, he will probably do what we're planning on doing—raiding Thackery's e-files to find the dirt; which means that he has a copy of Thackery's records. We need to get our hands on every copy so the Centre won't have any proof of Thackery's success or lack thereof."

"That shouldn't be too difficult, I'll start on him immediately," Modesty stated calmly.

"Good. Barney have you finished with your little surprise?"

"Yes, Jarod. This little gizmo was to be our back-up plan in case Modesty was unable to get Thackery's password. We'll have Geoff attach our special bug to Cox's computer instead. Once our device is attached to his computer, we'll be able to extract all the information we want until this is discovered. This little guy will transfer specific code into every drive in the computer issuing instructions and gathering data until it has a chance to dial home, so to speak. The code is sophisticated enough to go undetected by any anti-viral software programs and will embed itself in all the drives attached to the computer—including portable/backup and flash drives. Geoff, try to place it in an inconspicuous place because once it's attached that's it. Move it again and it will self-destruct."

"Understood," Geoff replied. "Jarod, what did you say to Miss Parker on the phone? Her reaction was very interesting."

"Really? What did she do?"

"Let's put it this way. She was about to tear my head off in one angry swipe before you called and then afterwards she was practically purring when the conversation ended. Did you have to call her twice?" Modesty asked with a lift of her eyebrows.

"She hung up on me the first time I called. We've been going through a bit of a cooling off period," Jarod replied sheepishly.

"Well, it looks like things heated up again pretty quick. Thanks, you saved my bacon," Modesty said sincerely.

"I knew Parker would need distracting. I'm glad we got Geoff's text message right away."

Barney smiled at Jarod's lack of an answer to Geoff's question. "You only had to provide the very pretty lady with a long, romantic weekend. It sounds like you already know where you want to take her or was that just a play to keep her off Modesty's back?"

"I've been thinking about it. If I cancel this weekend, then she'll become suspicious and angry. We'll lose whatever advantage we currently hold completely."

"The sacrifices are grave, no doubt. Where do you intend on taking her? Jonas and I can probably get you some last minute reservations."

"No need. I have a friend who once offered me the use of his house on the beach. I think I'll be taking him up on that offer. Geoff, keep me informed. If anything goes wrong, send me an urgent text message. I'll check my phone every hour to see if anything untoward has happened."

"You got it. I have a feeling that I'm going to find out about whatever she's put on Michael's plate in the next day or two. Are you leaving immediately to set up your weekend?"

"I'm taking Parker away tonight and hopefully that will keep her people off balance enough for you to start the treatment on Thackery and give Modesty enough time to find out which computer Cox stores his valuable files."

"Talk about a long weekend, today is Wednesday," Modesty said with a suggestive smile. "Do you have anything special in mind? You know, to keep her distracted."

A faraway look was in Jarod's eyes as he thought through Modesty's question. "I'll have to stop by the supermarket and perhaps make some dinner reservations. Miss Parker will remain distracted and out of your hair until Monday morning."

"Yeah, and what about _her_ cell phone?" Geoff asked curiously. "She'll probably try to keep tabs on Michael and Remy."

Jarod smiled wickedly, "Oh, it'll experience some technical difficulties. Nothing too obvious, mind you, because I don't want her to suspect that we've put her on our network."

**Beach House  
Mid-Atlantic shoreline **

The cover of darkness provided little by way of scenic views and scenery. Jarod drove with a practiced skill, speed and ease that Parker could appreciate. She turned her head to look out the side window and smiled inwardly. Jarod seemed determined to keep up his thin façade of aloof, edginess. Each time he drove them somewhere it was in a different vehicle. None of the cars he used was either inexpensive or obtrusive and seemed to be able to fit in almost any situation. Conversation was sparse as the trip took them out of Delaware and into parts due south. Parker wondered about Jarod's unexpected offer to take her on a long weekend together out of town. He promised a lot and so far she had never seen him fail to deliver although she did half expect him to cancel at the last minute.

Jarod watched her out of the corner of his eye. Oddly enough, he felt relieved at having her beside him once again. If he had to be brutally honest, there was a part of him that missed her—acknowledging that their telephone conversations had been a poor substitute for what they had already established. He wanted everything to go perfect for their time away. This was the first opportunity he ever had to be with her and he didn't want any avoidable irritants to mess things up. He had called his friend who was more than happy to have his house occupied in the off-season and had his caretaker stock the fridge for Jarod with local and standard fare. This freed Jarod from having to do any shopping and kept Parker further in the dark as to where he was taking her.

The two and a half hour journey ended with Jarod pulling smoothly into a private driveway. Everything around them was dark but the ocean's gentle waves reminded them of the nearness of the shore. They got out, stretched and breathed in the fresh sea air.

"Let me grab our bags and I'll show you in," Jarod said as he retrieved their belongings from the back seat. Fortunately, Parker needed only two bags for her stuff. Jarod wasn't sure if this meant that she didn't believe they would last the full weekend together or if she thought she wouldn't be needing much. He passed in front of her with a studied neutral expression but was surprised by her unexpected perspicacity.

"Chasing after you for five years taught me economy in my packing method. Believe me when I say, two bags are a lot for me."

"I hope you like the accommodations. There's plenty of room for both of us," Jarod said eagerly. He was aware that there was little to see in the almost absolute darkness. Only one streetlight provided any illumination. Jarod felt around the faux-jade Budda that was perched on a pedestal as though guarding the front door. Pressing a small button released a tiny depression in the base of the statue. From this Jarod retrieved the front door key and led the way inside.

Parker remained silent as they entered the foyer. It was as if she had gone mute once the reality that they had finally arrived at their destination had finally got through. Jarod told her to wait where she stood while he hunted around for a light. There were sounds of him shuffling forward with the bags, then a soft thump as he sat them on the floor and then there was light—a soft, intimate illumination that came from the ceiling's recessed lighting assisted by a few living room lamps. The effect was immediate. Parker found herself in a large, expensively furnished room. The hardwood floors gleamed and were fully complemented by the contrasting wool area rugs that seemed to invite visitors. Opposite the door there was a rough hewn, naturally colored, stone wall in which a built-in fireplace was the main feature. Looking around, Parker was taken aback by both the taste and expense that was evident in every detail.

"It's beautiful. I can honestly say that I wasn't expecting this," Parker stated as she advanced further into the room and stepped down into the living room area to stand next to the massive, black leather couch.

"It's a great deal different than the anonymous motels I had to inhabit to avoid attracting attention. A friend is allowing us to use it for the weekend. Actually, he was glad to have someone here, even if it's merely for a short stay. He only uses it a few months out of the year. Hey, are you hungry? I think I might be able to throw something together for us. That is if you're not too tired from the drive?"

"What's available?" she called out to Jarod who was now in the kitchen, snapping on more lights. Parker moved in the opposite direction, towards the wide French doors that lead out to a patio beyond which grew untamed sand grass and beyond that the sea.

"How about splitting a sandwich?" When there was no answer, Jarod straightened up from leaning into the stuffed fridge to see if Parker was still nearby.

Parker had wandered onto the sturdy wooden patio and listened to the sounds of the ocean. It was peaceful and she was surprised to realize that although the ocean was close to both her home and work, she rarely had a chance to stop and listen. For the first time in years she felt free—even if it would be short-lived. A smile touched her lips as she recalled the rather elaborate steps Jarod had taken to ensure that Raines' personal snoops were unaware of her absence. Fortunately, her flawless intuition hadn't failed her when she had the impulse to slip on her flat-soled sandals. The long walk Jarod felt was required to get past the sweepers, testified to the newfound accuracy of her gut instincts.

Jarod touched her elbow and felt her slightly flinch in surprise. He was aware of the distance he had put between them and was afraid that she would try to maintain it to some degree. Regardless, this momentary display of surprise still made him breathe easier. Parker was starting to anticipate him far more than ever before which puzzled him. Jarod figured it was because they had grown so much closer and somehow he was letting his guard down too much when he was around her. But this didn't make much sense either because even when he made a point of being spontaneous, she was still able to predict his actions. None of this bode well for his team but at least getting her away from the Centre for a few days would give his people enough space to finish the mission.

The warm smile Parker gave him nonplused him for several seconds which were quickly followed by the strange brain freeze that unexpectedly suspended all thoughts from being formed or processed. Jarod blinked and swallowed thickly as he forcibly pushed the amorous thoughts that followed from his mind. "Lovely, isn't it? How do you like it so far? It's not much to see right now, in the morning you'll be able to explore more. This house is among the most beautiful I've ever been in."

"What I can see is very lovely. I look forward to seeing it in the daytime. Right now, could you show me where I'll be sleeping? I want to freshen up."

"Of course, follow me."


	18. Beaten, attracted and stood up

Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for the usual stuff  
Author's Note: Hi All, I know its been awhile but I feel fortunate and am happy to get this chapter out, things have been that tough going. I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays and will find some time for reading!

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 18**  
…**meanwhile)**

_**The Centre  
Main Conference Room (Mezzanine Level)  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Geoff was in the middle of a pile of temporary Centre IDs that only prompted another weary yawn in an effort to suppress the agonizing groan that kept threatening to erupt. When Geoff first arrived for work in the morning, he was unpleasantly accosted by Michael who brusquely demanded to see the fake ID provided by Jonas. So far no one had bothered to look too closely at it. Working for Miss Parker had more perks than he could've imagined. For the first time, Geoff's confidence in Jonas' workmanship was being tested. The suspicious look in Michael's face made Geoff wonder where they had gone wrong. His nerves had their turn being tested as he watched Michael turn and impatiently swipe the card through the reader. Geoff slowly and silently released the breath he was holding while maintaining the bored but carefully neutral expression on his face.

"Where's Miss Parker this morning? She said something about wanting me to accompany her to the ancillary meeting for the off-site operations scheduled for our Canadian government contracts. By the way, what exactly are our Canadian government contracts? She made it sound like something vaguely to do with law enforcement, but then they have guys on horseback for that, right?"

Instead of answering Geoff's cheeky question directly, Michael stared hard at the new sweeper as the card reader beeped its answer to Geoff's identity. Instead of looking down to check the results, Michael continued to stare at Geoff for a few seconds before briefly verifying the results.

"Miss Parker won't be in today. She's assigned you to me for the remainder of the week. We have a large project to get through and the sooner we start tackling it the better."

Geoff returned Michael's stare with one of his own. To go along meekly would be out of character for the persona he had already established. Mentally rolling his eyes, he figured he would play the innocent and jab Michael in the ribs for the sake of continuity.

"Well, I would prefer to hang out with Miss Parker—even if it is another budget meeting with a bunch of bureaucrats. She's easier on the eyes and I don't think doing your skutt work is part of my job description."

The effect was immediate—Michael's lips became a thin line of hostile indignation. Apparently, Geoff's distrust in him was playing on his nerves as Michael replied tightly, "Listen up, asshole. You do what I tell you to do unless Parker or Remy tell you otherwise. Today, Parker's put me in charge and wants this project completed by Monday. She wants you involved and that's all there is to it. Say another word and I promise you, you'll regret it." Michael squared his shoulders and waited almost hopefully for Geoff to make a wrong move.

With subtle nobility, Geoff relaxed slightly and gave Michael an impertinent grin. "Relax. I'm yanking your chain. I've already been to her office and stopped by Remy's. He told me the boss lady wouldn't be in for the rest of the week and to report here. So what's up?"

Michael blinked at him as though the buffers in his brain were having a problem processing the meaning behind Geoff's words. Without a word, Michael gruffly returned the temporary employee ID and ordered Geoff to follow him.

Now, after 3 hours of mind-numbing monotony, Geoff wasn't sure which would've been worse, having been found out or being slowly tortured to death by this administrative tedium. Remy walked in to check on their progress. It was at this point that Geoff stood, stretched his cramped muscles and quickly asked for a break from the boredom.

"This detail has violently murdered my ability to keep quiet and Michael's tolerance of my presence. Mind if I take a walk?"

"Go on, just don't disappear for an hour. My patience is about as durable as Michael's tolerance. An' while you're at it, check on the sweeps over at the loading docks. Lemme know how backed up things are gettin' there."

Geoff gratefully accepted the assignment and stepped out. The loading dock was an excellent suggestion. He was curious to know how badly what he and Michael were being tasked to do was impacting the rest of the Centre. Walking out of the room, Geoff was shocked to find there was a line snaking from the main level conference room, where they had set up their base of operations, all the way back to the front door a 100 yards away and beyond. At this rate, he would be stuck at the Centre long afterhours catching up on the paperwork this crowd had generated. Adjustments would need to be made in tonight's plan.

As a stop gap, Remy permitted all employees to enter the Centre as usual but demanded that all department heads send their temporary employees to the conference room on a staggered schedule. This hour belonged to the production department. Anyone who tried to get around this requirement would be summarily fired and the department head demoted with a nasty reprimand in their file. At this rate, it would take at least a couple hours to get through the crowd.

Geoff glanced towards the docks and paused. A quick detour to the doctor's quarters to double check their preparations took a bit longer than he anticipated. All was in place for Thackery to get a taste of some of their medicinal "treatments". Finally, Geoff was en route to check on the sweepers and passed through the main concourse on his way to the loading docks when he inadvertently bushed past a stylishly dressed man in the crowded hallway. Murmuring a quick apology to the unintentional contact, Geoff was blindsided by a solid shove into the wall. The hallway miraculously cleared within a few seconds.

"Next time leave some room for others to pass," the executive said with self-assured challenge.

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to offend you," Geoff replied with some surprise. He looked into the man's eyes and saw that he was being confronted by Miss Parker's demented twin.

"You're one of the newbies. You need to learn some manners."

Geoff remained silent, watching Lyle with wary caution, wondering what the disturbed man's next move might be. While Geoff and Lyle continued to stare at each other, another voice interrupted their visual sparing match.

"What are you doing loitering around? I gave you 15 minutes to stretch your legs and you're wasting it bothering people?" Michael enjoined with a voice dipped in sarcasm.

Lyle never took his eyes off Geoff which made his actions all the more unpredictable. Geoff saw the shift of emotion in the sociopath's eyes and knew something unpleasant was about the happen. Before he could call out a warning, Lyle pivoted gracefully on one foot and connected his fist with Michael's jaw, throwing his body weight behind the blow. Michael fell down heavily and then began getting pummeled by Lyle's precisely placed kicks.

Unable to stand by and watch this continue unabated, Geoff stepped over to his fallen co-worker and got between him and Lyle with his hands up in supplicant surrender.

"Please Sir, he's my supervisor. He meant to insult me, not bother you. We'll leave imm—"

Lyle instantly turned on Geoff, barely pausing in his physical assault. Fortunately for Geoff, he was both well trained and recently being Jonas' sparing partner, knew how to protect himself and minimize the damage being meted out. Lyle was about to deliver a punishing stomp on Geoff's midriff when a sarcastic voice interrupt his attack.

"Director Lyle, I hope you're done with my subordinates. There are a number of things that need to be completed an' Miss Parker was very specific in her orders. These two are in charge of revamping our_in-ternal_ security," Remy drawled with a deceptively laid-back tone.

Lyle paused and turned his gaze on his twin's assistant. He slowly put his foot down to stare at the unflappable Southerner. An incongruous smile graced Lyle's handsome face as he started to train his attention on this newcomer. Partially sated, instinct stilled his intentions on turning is frustrated anger on Remy. There was something in the other's eyes that made Lyle pause and take a second look.

The stillness in Remy's gaze denoted his readiness to take on Lyle. Remy was in excellent shape and his expensively cut suits hid and belied Remy's aptitude in mixed martial arts. It would take him no longer than 20 seconds to take out Lyle and the two sweepers with him wouldn't lift a finger in Lyle's defense—they knew better. Lyle backed off and straightening his suit jacket, he continued to smile has he walked past with his 2 personal sweepers trailing behind impassively.

_**Mid-Atlantic beach house**_

The following morning was spent exploring, hanging out and simply talking. Jarod's plans seemed to be following the script he had written out in his mind but being constantly in Parker's company also meant that he couldn't overtly make any moves to check his cell phone for fear that it would remind her that she had neglected to do the same.

Parker was aware that she had ignored her cell phone and hadn't contacted anyone at the Centre. For her this represented a few stolen days away from the pressures of her daily existence. Michael had his orders and Remy understood what she wanted and knew what she expected of him. They could contact her if anything went wrong. Early in the morning, she had double checked to make sure her cell phone was on and fully charged.

Both Jarod and Parker ignored their mutual attraction to each other. Jarod was reluctant to make a move for fear that he would be rejected and apprehension that she wouldn't refuse him. He was tired of dead-end relationships and longed to find someone he could emotionally rely on—who would be there in the end. Their past suggested that Parker would be the last woman on earth who would or could fulfill this need but by the same token, she was the only person so far who even came close. This fact made him shudder at the prospect of her turning him away. Trying again would be a painful process—one that he didn't look forward to attempting. However, if she did respond as he hoped, he had no idea how they would end up. She would probably insist on staying on at the Centre and that alone would be intolerable in his mind.

Parker chatted and relaxed but she was left wanting more. Impassively, Parker wondered about her deepening desire for Jarod. Though they often kissed, those kisses were more platonic than passionate. Thackery's treatments had some side-effects that the good doctor was completely aware would occur. The therapy's effects were masked by her own natural, if not sublimated, desires; making it near impossible to separate effects from her true emotions. This was occurring because the treatment magnified whatever underlying psychological needs were already there. This by-product was part of the contract that the Centre specifically requested, a detailed guarantee that would assist in directly controlling the test subjects. Worse than a microchip implanted in the brain and far more subtle. The therapy rendered any possible rebellion or non-compliance a moot point.

It was late afternoon when Jarod decided to look for Miss Parker. They had spent the morning together but after a few hours, he left her alone to enjoy the beauty of the surrounding beach landscape. After a perfunctory check of the house, Jarod walked out on the deck to see if he could spot her on the beach. He walked out on the sand towards her.

"So you've decided that I've had enough alone time?" she asked with amusement.

"I don't want you to feel like you're on a schedule or feel the pressure of having me in your face every second of the day. You're supposed to relax and enjoy yourself. If you prefer to be alone, I'll go."

"Stay, please. Keep me company for a while."

Jarod settled next to her on the sand berm and leaned back against the natural seat the landscape provided. It was an excellent vantage point to watch the soothing motion of the ocean and to listen to the cries from the gulls.

"Before you start in with the entertaining chit chat, I want to say something that will probably scare the daylights out of you. My future, as we both know, doesn't hold a lot of promise and longevity in my line of work, with my particular employer isn't exactly in the cards. You've been leading me around by the nose for quite awhile, so now, I'm going to call you on it. I've never been good at having friends and currently, I'm not in the market for developing any. In short, I want more from you."

Jarod slowly looked away from her and settled his gaze on the shore. He had no trouble understanding her reasoning. Their pasts, though different had produced similar results, they both longed to find someone who would love them and both had been trained in such a way that garnered the same outcome—they seemed unable to find what they needed the most. It was as he suspected, that damn book of Geoff's had backfired on him. Jarod started out being attracted by Parker, now he cared for her even more so than when they were stranded on a certain Scottish island.

A long moment had passed, leaving Parker with a sinking feeling that he really didn't want the same things she did, though there was something inside that told her he did. As she started to mentally summon up justifications for his reluctance, Jarod decided to speak up.

"I've wanted to be with you, in this place for a long time. I'm glad you've finally decided to join me."

A smile twitched into fullness on her lips as she turned to look at him.

Earlier, Parker had entered the living room as Jarod gave her a hesitant smile and quickly left. Frustrated with his odd gallantry, Parker spotted Jarod's cell phone peeking out of his jacket pocket and turned it off with a sly smile before going out to sit on the sand berm. Once he escaped to his own room, Jarod leaned against the door with a deep sigh. Parker had almost caught him turning off her cell phone. Luckily he was able to return her phone to her purse without being seen.

While they both thought through the strange, twisted path that brought them together, inside the house, both Parker and Jarod's cell phones received calls that went straight to voice mail. Their teams were in need of leadership as things began to spiral out of control.

**_The Centre  
Psychological Services  
Blue Cove, DE_**

Sydney was hunched over his paperwork with a studiousness that the task never demanded. His attention wasn't on the papers in front of him but on the meeting that his contact had missed. At first Sydney was surprised that such a person would be employed by and roaming freely throughout the Centre. Thinking more objectively, Sydney conceded that the cover was superb. However, all that faded into the insignificant background as the person who had infiltrated the Centre began to verbally sketch a disturbing picture. The broad strokes were the only details he could fully absorb. It took several days for him to completely process what had been discussed. The elderly psychiatrist wasn't sure if the solution presented was the wisest choice but in retrospect he could see the reasoning was sound, objective and strangely appropriate.

Plans had been made, assumptions were proving to be correct and observations had confirmed conjectures and suppositions. There was a lot riding on what had been revealed to Sydney. In turn, he had revealed most but not all of what he had learned to Broots. The nervous tech had stared at him incredulously. Broots had given his word to keep everything Sydney had told him confidential however he seemed unable to stop talking and speculating about the topic of their conversation. He continued wondering aloud all the way up to the employee entrance.

Now this. Sydney's contact had failed to make their scheduled meeting and this left him wondering if something had gone awry. So much hinged on the right people being in the right places at the right time and doing what was necessary. If they couldn't even keep their appointments, then the intricate design in which he played a role would fall apart before it even got started.

Unable to contain his frustration and anxiety, Sydney got up and headed out. From the reports he had obtained from Cox, the elderly psychiatrist could surmise the true desired outcome of their current experiments. It didn't take much to extrapolate why the Centre was so interested in Thackery and his therapy. The side-effects alone were worth their own weight in profits. Control was the name of the game and the Centre believed they could deliver it in a bottle with instructions for use. It was horrible, invasive and had some nasty long-term effects, but it left the victim unable to resist. Introduce someone the victim would fall in love with or cared for deeply and complete control was in hand. Sydney paused as he reviewed his findings. He hadn't yet told Cox or anyone else of what he had discovered because Sydney had wanted to tell his contact about this first. He also knew that Cox gave him the documentation because he knew that Sydney would immediately grasp the primary reason for the Centre's interest in Thackery's discovery. This was a rotten time for a no-show. Sydney had gotten no further than the first floor before he spotted Jennifer chatting up Cox with unsettling coquetry. In his shock, Sydney had come to a complete stop to stare with vague disappointment. Suddenly, the young woman turned around to find him watching. She gave Sydney a quick smile, excused herself from Cox and scampered impatiently over to Sydney.

"Hello, Doctor. There was something I wanted to ask you," she said in a friendly voice. To Sydney, it seemed as though she was still in the thrall of Cox's charms, if anyone could convincingly claim that the Director of Medical services had anything that resembled a charm, or even warm blood.

"I see you've been making new friends," he replied.

"Oh, yes. Dr. Cox has been very accommodating. Were you heading somewhere? Would you mind if I walk with you?"

"I don't mind. But I wasn't going anywhere in particular, just taking a walk."

"Perfect," Modesty responded as she fell into step with Sydney. After a short pause, she continued, "From the look on your face, you don't seem to be all that fond of Dr. Cox, may I ask why?"

"He's a very dangerous man. You should be careful. I have a question for you; what is it about him that you find so attractive?"

Modesty laughed genuinely at the elderly doctor's blatant concern. "I apologize. My not laughing at you, I'm not used to someone being so gallant. Is it gallantry or perhaps something else? Is he such a monster?"

"In the Centre there are always monsters. Some lurk in the shadows and others wear pleasant masks. The real trick is figuring out the monsters from the regular people."

"I think I know what you mean doctor." The adopting his gravity, Modesty abruptly changed the subject. "Have you heard anything further about the people who were psychoanalyzed in absentia? And do you have any idea about what the expected results are supposed to be? Dr. Cox is stringing me along but I know he knows more than he's saying."

"Perhaps there are better ways of finding out what we both want to know. I know some fairly influential people around here. I think I'll be able to get more information than you could extract from Cox in a year's probing. However, there is something I discovered that is extremely troubling," Sydney began abruptly. Jennifer never denied it but Sydney was convinced that she was an extremely talented and experienced clinitian in her own right. And since he had no idea when his contact would reappear again, Sydney decided to share his latest findings.


	19. Still Here?

_**Author's note**_: I loved the reviews, thanks! To answer a question, I haven't revealed who the contact is as of yet. That is something for the reader to figure out, which is only fair since, Reader you know what's going on with Parker and Jarod does not! Enjoy! 

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 19  
Intimacy)**

**Beach House  
Mid-Atlantic shore**

It was mid-morning by the time he woke up with an irrepressible grin on his lips. He couldn't help it. Last night was far from perfect but that didn't prevent it from being fantastic. Just thinking about it propelled him to sit up straight in bed. Yesterday, they sat together for several minutes enjoying the shore. Several minutes was being generous. Jarod held out for not much longer than 30 seconds before pulling Parker towards him and kissing her with as much pent-up passion as he could without hurting her. Their mutual stumbling, clothes shedding trek into the house and then the bedroom was only delayed by the decision to either stop at the living room couch or to go all the way to a bedroom—which was a very long 10 feet away. Parker chose the latter. Incredible, the waiting, the infatuation, the self-control made the experience well worth it.

As Jarod reviewed in emotional detail what they had done, he began to have the unmistakable feeling of someone watching him. He smiled affectionately though he hadn't yet turned around. He lifted the covers around him and in a single move, he turned over onto his belly and half-way on top of her. Their noses were touching as they stared directly into each other's eyes. Parker opened her mouth to say something and instantly found herself being kissed as she responded by stroking his tongue with her own. Jarod eventually broke the kiss but continued by pecking her nose, the side of her face and moved further down her neck.

"How long have you been up?" he asked giving her throat a gentle nibble.

"For about an hour, watching you sleep," she replied huskily.

"Are you alright? How are you feeling?"

"Fine, but I'm a little horny right now. Nothing you can't handle."

"I'll be happy to oblige."

Which he did for the next hour until Parker resolutely got up and declared that one: she was hungry and two: she wanted something ready to eat by the time she got out of the shower. Jarod watched her admiringly as she walked stark naked with complete self-assuredness into the adjoining bathroom.

When Parker emerged from the bathroom, clean, fragranced and hungry, the smell of bacon cooking made her stomach growl in anticipation. Grabbing a robe she entered the kitchen to find Jarod wearing only boxers and humming while he cut several slices of tomato. Parker stole up behind him, wrapped her arms around his body and placed and hand over his heart.

"How did you know BLTs were a favorite of mine?" she asked softly while planting a kiss along his spine.

"I didn't. It was the quickest meal I could think to prepare that would nourish you and get us back to doing what we both were enjoying."

Parker laughed huskily while she released him to allow the finishing touches to be added to her sandwich. Jarod worked quickly assembling their lunch and placed their plates on the already prepared kitchen table. They ate mostly in silence with each taking long moments to stare at the other, as though surprised to find that they were still there. Though they were equally amazed by their mutual affection, both figured that the other would leave after the first blush of novelty wore off.

Parker was surprised that Jarod was still around and looking at her as though she would disappear in a puff of smoke, mainly because she suspected that he was merely curious and would rattle off some semi-plausible reason to leave once his curiosity had been satisfied. Jarod, on the other hand, wondered what kept Parker from shaking her head in triumph and walking out on him with that shark-like grin he had seen on occasion. There were times, even though she held fast to her resolve, when she would look pensively at him as though his occasional bouts of naïveté were a test to see if she would break down and deliver a scathing quip. In this case, Jarod knew he had allowed her to see his true feelings. Something inside his heart demanded full disclosure and hoped that she wouldn't turn him away, though he was half-way expecting her to do so.

Parker leaned forward and slightly tilting her head to one side, sensuously ate the tiny portion of tomato that she had speared onto her fork—never taking her eyes from his.

"I'm still here."

"Are you planning on leaving soon?"

Parker smiled as she put the fork down and looked at the half-eaten sandwich. "Uh-uh, no plans. You promised me an entire weekend, remember?"

"I remember but keeping in mind that you're a Centre executive, I would expect that the unexpected often comes up in your line of work. I wouldn't like it, but I could understand if you had to leave unexpectedly," Jarod replied noting how watchful her gaze was on him. It puzzled him but somehow he liked her scrutiny. "I made reservations at a local restaurant but I would prefer eating in tonight. That is unless you really want to go out?"

Parker said nothing for several long seconds before averting her gaze, sitting back and then looking him in the eyes once again. "Not necessarily. What do you want to do?"

"What we were doing before," he replied immediately.

"Still curious? It's okay with me," she said, wondering what the hell he really wanted to find out from her. A soft smile graced her face as she thought, 'Why not? He's pretty damn good in the sack; I might as well enjoy myself while he works up to the right moment to say whatever is going on in that genius brain of his.'

Jarod returned her smile self-consciously as he gathered their plates and returned them to the kitchen. "I wouldn't exactly call it curiosity," he said softly.

_**The Centre  
Renewal Wing – Immediate-Care Medical Services  
Blue Cove, DE**_

He was frustrated and in pain as he watched the physician's assistant carefully pad his forearm with undercast wadding and apply a backslab of synthetic casting material. Then the whole mess was held in place with a simple Ace bandage. To ease his discomfort and allow for proper healing, his arm was placed in a sling while he tuned out the medical assistant's instructions in care of the cast and injury.

Remy was standing unobserved in the doorway of the treatment room, as Geoff gingerly slipped off the bed and tried to button his shirt with one hand. "It's good to see you hoppin' around again. Now how 'bout you tell me what the hell happened?"

Geoff looked up sharply at the sound of Remy's Southern-accented sarcasm and flinched in pain because he had accidentally moved his injured arm. He readily replied, "I was walking towards the dock, as you instructed; minding my own business when Mr. Lyle bumped into me. I apologized and he confronted me instead. He was just about to move on, when Michael showed up asking questions. He meant to be rude to me, I guess to show Mr. Lyle that he was in charge. Well, it didn't work 'cause before I could even warn him, Lyle turned his aggression on Michael. He was about to stomp on him when I interfered offering more apologies. And this is what I get." Geoff nodded at his arm with a frown.

"Hummmm," Remy replied thoughtfully. The story pretty much matched what he saw on the surveillance tapes. "Whatever Michael said must've really set him off."

"He could've said 'Boo' and that guy would've went off. He's a ticking time bomb. I guess it's Centre policy not to interfere."

"You did right. You also paid for it. Don't think this gets you out of that assignment from Miss Parker. Doc says you're on desk duty anyway for the next 6 weeks or so."

"How is Michael? Blaming and cursing me for his thrashing?"

"He's pretty much out of it. They gave him something to sleep and wrapped up his ribs. Lyle left him with a bruised kidney and a concussion as a souvenir. At least with this experience, you boys'll have to learn to work together. Miss Parker ain't going to be too happy to hear about this, but I'll see what I can do."

"Oh great. When is she due back? Maybe I can pretend my arm isn't broken."

"I put a message on her mobile phone, we'll see what she says when she gets it."

"I hope not too soon," Geoff replied glumly, hoping Jarod was successful in keeping Parker from her phone.

Remy smirked cynically and quickly left to check on the replacements he had assigned to take the place of the injured. It seemed whenever Parker left, things went from bad to worse. He wondered idly why she hadn't responded to his message but figured she was too busy enjoying herself.

Geoff, looked around and noticed that he had been left alone. Retrieving his cell phone, he quickly sent a text to his team to let them know his changed status and to notify Jarod. Even with the best laid plans and a generous time cushion, this newest and thoroughly unexpected development was going to take Geoff out of the line-up for his part of the mission.

**Beach House  
Mid-Atlantic shore**

The rest of their day was pleasantly uneventful. The only break in the calm that prevented any sort of tedium from creeping in was an impromptu bout of playing around where Jarod was in the role of pursuer as he chased a laughing Parker around the house as he attempted to retrieve the digital camera she had snatched from him as he tried to take another picture of her. Wondering why the other stuck around was quickly abandoned in favor of simply enjoying the moment.

Hours later, a strange malaise shrouded Parker's exuberance when she reminded herself that Jarod would be leaving once whatever it was that brought him to the Centre had been concluded. Parker had never been one to brood or to let future possibilities ruin her good time, but now she seemed almost incapable of completely suppressing her darker imaginings. Once again the effects of Thackery's treatments found a way to come to the surface. Subconsciously, Parker was aware that once Jarod left for good, there would be no one around who would get rid of the bizarre headaches that had begun to plague her. Without him, the headaches would continue to build until she couldn't take it any longer and with the way she was feeling about him, she wasn't in any mood for anyone else to make the attempt.

Jarod noticed how quiet and still Parker had become. The expression on her face reflected the dark thoughts that were beginning to monopolize her attention leading Jarod to assume she was probably thinking about work. Smiling, he moved over to her side of the couch, sitting so close that they were touching. Parker's concentration was broken when she looked over to find him so near and looking at her with an expression that was 1 part friendly attention and 3 parts something she refused to look into too deeply.

"You seemed so wrapped up in your thoughts. Would it help to talk about it?" he asked tentatively, figuring she would refuse.

"Sorry. I've had a lot on my mind lately. And no, I don't want to completely spoil the mood," Parker replied lightly.

Expectations met, Jarod nodded at her response and countered. "Well, I was offering because I wanted something in return—so I'll just ask. I really would like a cuddle. Mind if I hold you? Just for a little while."

Parker blinked and wondered how he could've known what she had been thinking. Nonplussed for a moment, she murmured, "Sure. I'm already starting to miss this when you're not around."

Jarod resumed his seat on the other side of the couch facing her and held his arm out as an invitation. Parker looked at him once more, trying to figure out what it was about his embrace that got rid of the headaches. Without saying another word, she got up and turning away from him, settled between his legs and arms, and leaned back as he folded her against him. Parker leaned her head back, stretched and heaved a large sigh as she relaxed against him. She privately acknowledged that she was probably enjoying this more than him—and that it really had very little to do with the headaches.

Jarod watched as his girlfriend relaxed trustingly against him. The sigh was enough to assure him of her confidence. He buried his nose in her hair as he brought up his other leg on the couch and leaned against the cushions. This was as unprecedented as it was welcome and he was determined to enjoy every moment. He squeezed her fully as he planted a kiss to the side of her head. Parker shivered slightly and closed her eyes. A few seconds later, she was asleep as her subconscious registered her feelings of trust and comfort. As far as Thackery's treatments were concerned, Jarod was dangerously close to accomplishing the unthinkable. His affections were very near to fully nullifying the physical pain of the induction chemicals.

Jarod listened to her soft breathing even out in sleep. He couldn't believe what was happening to them. A month ago he had practically laughed in Geoff's face at the mere suggestion of _trying_ to seduce Parker as a means of distracting her. Now he was still incredulous as he lay on a sofa with her securely wrapped in his embrace. What Jarod knew he hadn't counted on at the start of this long-shot, seduction gambit was falling hard for her. Sure, he had been attracted—her looks alone seemed to guarantee Parker plenty of amorous attention. But it was the realization that struck him years ago that they were in the same rocky emotional boat that kept him trying to reach her. They had both been told outrageous lies-in some cases the same ones, had been cruelly used and manipulated from their early youth and suffered such profound losses at the hands of the Centre that left them wanting the same thing: someone to love them despite their flaws. To Jarod's thinking, if they couldn't find what they needed from others than turning to each other was the logical alternative. Jarod hugged her a little tighter, knowing they were on a precipice and his op held all the potential of pushing Parker away from him forever. He was determined to tell her about the mission before she could discover it on her own—now that would be the tricky part. Trying to time and plan his revelation seemed too big a risk, too much could go wrong. So instead, he opted to think of the best way of wording it and hoped he would be in a position to take advantage whenever an opportunity would present itself.


	20. The Unexpected

**Disclaimer: **Please see the first chapter for the usual statements  
**Author's note:** It has been a while since my last posting. I hope the length of this chapter makes up a bit for my absence.

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 20  
Lojack and cell phones)**

_**The Centre  
Blue Cove, DE **_

A moment alone was quickly becoming a rare if not jealously sought after commodity during her time at the Centre. Either it was Thackery and his newly minted humility requiring a great deal of ego-stroking assurances and her constant attention, or Sydney was displaying his uncanny knack of finding her wherever she went in the Centre, trying to glean further information that she didn't have about the patients/victims. Finally, having a moment away from both men, gave the operative a moment to concentrate on a third man—Dr. Cox. Modesty grinned happily as she watched the dot on the small display finally settle in one place. She got him! Discovered his hidey hole and only needed Geoff to wander by and place Barney's little bug on Dr. Cox's computer. Early on, Modesty had figured that the best strategy to get Cox to tell her where his private computer and its files were located was by letting him lead her to them. Given the doctor's wary interest, she knew he would never voluntarily tell her what she needed to know within the given time frame. Besides, the more time she spent with him the creepier he got. Modesty was now at the point, despite his good looks, where the guy gave her the willies whenever she was around him. He carried a pall of tainted coldness that left a lasting impression of emotional desolation. Getting closer to Cox would be too time consuming for the limited benefits she would reap. Instead, Modesty opted with placing a locater device, using all the deft skills of a pickpocket, on his jacket lapel.

Disengaging him would be child's play. She would declare a fantasy allegiance to Dr. Thackery and be done with it. Cox would be disappointed but would also be too busy congratulating himself on his own insight and keen perception in determining her true motives for being friendly with him.

Now all there was left to do was to report back to Geoff, who was mission lead in Jarod's absence and play nice with an increasingly allergic Dr. Thackery. Thackery had taken to sneezing loudly and despite his doing this often, his outbursts usually made her flinch; his inability of confining his sneeze spray haphazard. A disgusted shiver ran lightly through her slight frame as Modesty pulled out her cell phone/PDA. Her privacy was shattered when someone called out. Looking around, she found that she was being hailed much like a New York cabbie by an Asian woman who was running to catch up.

"Hi, I'm glad I finally found you," the woman stated breathlessly.

Emulating Sydney, Modesty asked with masked curiosity, "May I help you?"

"Yes. I wanted to talk to someone but there aren't too many people around here that seem…umm…trustworthy?" The woman stated uncertainly, carefully watching her quarry's reaction. When Modesty remained quiet but interested, she continued, "Look, I did a little research. You're new, haven't been here long enough to have joined an alliance and seem to be altering between choosing either Sydney or Cox—an interesting dilemma especially given that both men seem to be pursuing you."

"And what exactly does that tell you?"

"That you're good at what you do; neither man would be vying for your attention if you weren't and you're new enough for this place not to have warped your perception; that seems to be an occupational hazard here. Besides, I need your professional help."

The look of wary desperation was on the woman's face. She was looking for something specific and somehow Modesty's name floated to the top of her list—which could only mean one thing--Thackery's treatments. Apparently one of the victims was showing symptoms.

"Why me? I'm one of many assistant psychiatric residents employed by the Centre." Modesty inquired cautiously while making a supreme effort to keep any trace of excitement out of her voice.

"Like I said, you're new and those others are too wired into the pecking order. Can we speak in confidence?" She asked while passive aggressively herding Modesty to a discrete alcove. "Look, I need your professional opinion. If I give you a list of some symptoms, could you give me a diagnosis? Nothing concrete, but just an idea?" Seeing Modesty's reluctance, the woman pressed, "This is important and trusting you, a complete stranger, is a risk. Please, I really need this."

Modesty stared at the harried woman as she quietly assessed her. The woman dressed like a high-class, overly-educated personal assistant. Standing in front of Modesty was one of the so-called "Spotters" who realized that with this assignment, she was in over her head. This meant that Modesty had to give the woman something of what she expected while simultaneously engendering enough trust to eventually extract the identity of her mark.

"So you think I can just rattle off a diagnosis from a list of symptoms that could be applied to any one of a hundred psychological syndromes, disorders, diseases and conditions? I'm an assistant psychiatric resident, not Houdini. You want to play games, go find someone else with the time and patience. I may be new here but I wasn't born yesterday." With that, Modesty walked away, knowing full well that from the look on the mysterious woman's face that she had passed a vital test and would be hearing from her soon.

When once again she was alone, Modesty pulled out her cell phone/PDA when someone else called out to her.

"Jennifer?" the man panted as he hurried over to catch up and match pace with her quick step. "You're name is Jennifer, right?" he asked earnestly. The man who stopped her was deceptively thin and balding. His face and eyes were kind even if his complexion did seem a bit pallid. He had the look and demeanor of a terminal white-collar worker, probably someone from IT.

At her affirmative nod, the fellow nodded distractedly to himself and continued, "My name's Broots. Sydney asked me to give this to you. Please don't leave it behind in your computer and don't let anyone see that you have it. When you're done, just return it to Syd, he knows how to find me."

Broots stepped very close to her, and with obvious surreptitiousness, handed over a jump drive about half the size of a pencil but thinner, fitted with its own rectangular cap with the distinctive Centre logo embossed along one side. It was strict Centre policy that prohibited anyone without high-level security from even possessing one of these gadgets within the walls of the Centre. Modesty quickly took the drive from the increasingly nervous man and thanked him. He stared at her for a few long seconds as though surprised to notice that she was attractive, and then belatedly realizing what he was doing, blushed handsomely, shyly smiled and walked away.

'Now that's more like it," Modesty thought approvingly as she watched Broots disappear down the hall. Not only was her luck getting better but so were the men. Jonas knew he had nothing to worry about when Modesty was dealing with people like Dr. Cox or even the gorgeous Assistant Security Chief Remy. Now Broots was another matter altogether. Shaking her head at her own weakness for the socially bungling, brainy types, Modesty slipped the flash drive in her pocket and hurried towards Thackery's office as she began typing out her text message.

Remy watched the security monitor with growing interest. If it had been anyone but Broots, he would've set his sweepers on the two before either could say, "It wasn't me". Since it was Broots, Remy decided caution was in order. Not only because Broots was close to Miss Parker but Remy also considered the nervous man a friend and didn't want any interest from security to attract the wrong kind of attention. Remy wondered what the terminally shy and awkward Broots would have to say to the pretty psychiatric assistant. He also wondered what was it was that he handed her—probably a flash drive, though the camera's zoom was unable to provide further details. Only those with high security clearance were allowed to even possess such a device at the Centre. All employees were banned from even bringing their own portable drives onto the premises. A frown marred his handsome features as Remy decided to let this one go. Jennifer already managed to get on Parker's bad side; if anything else came up then it wouldn't be much trouble throwing her out. Right now there were far other more important things on his plate. Remy decided that a quiet talk with the suspicious Jennifer would probably suffice. With that decision, Remy's focus began to take in the other monitors.

_**Beach House  
Mid-Atlantic shore**_

Selfish could be the only word for it. If Jarod thought a single night together with Parker could end up as fantastic, then all his dread about the weekend and his weaknesses had been proven true. The following day seemed to exist, in his mind anyway, to only prove their first night together hadn't been a fluke or some strange accident. This was also the first time, as an adult, that Jarod had Parker's undivided attention. The only agenda that hung around seemed to be in Jarod's mind alone, where he pushed it to a small, dark, unfriendly corner. He wanted Parker and yes, he was curious about her. Could she ever treat him as a lover or was there an agenda on her side? So far nothing had cropped up and quickly Jarod had forgotten all about his own schemes and spent the day in about the best company he had had in a very long time. Parker could pick up the newspaper and Jarod would find himself drawn in some interesting conversations; everything from a semi-debate on government policy (it turned out they agreed on several points here) to the kind and type of music she preferred. Intermixed in this discovery was his own desire to be physically close to her. He liked Parker, there was no denying it and he liked the feel of her—from head to pedicured toes. Happily for Jarod, after so many weeks of violating her personal space and getting her used to him handling her, she didn't seem to mind his need to touch her. The only intrusion into these pleasant events was the recurring mental reminder to check his cell phone for messages but he ignored these warnings. It was hard to imagine ever being with Parker like this and enjoying every moment became a priority. He refused to allow any part of the mission to ruin their delicate balance of affection, friendship, and lust. His team was very capable and for once, Jarod would let them do what they were trained to do. With careful assurance, he prodded Parker's chin and as she looked up at him, he leaned over and treated her to a long, drawn out kiss. Yeah, selfish, that's what he was being.

_**Trader's Inn  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Every member of the team had been coming and going a lot as of late. With Jarod's absence, there was a feeling of getting the job done and not disappointing him. Being the best Control they ever had secured his team's loyalty in a way that no one else had come close to doing. That is what made what was going on so difficult. Glitches happen within a blink of an eye. Life changing events that one casually assumes should take months, weeks or even days to develop actually occur within a moment. In this case, the undiscovered mole within the team, who had gotten separate orders from the others, received a cell phone call giving directions to a mostly empty storage unit. A quick glance through the lone box that sat in the middle of the empty space would probably yield little but there was curiosity and obligation to be satisfied. That quick glance turned into a time consuming perusal of the files the box contained. Several hours later, with only the weak overhead bulb for light, shock enveloped the senses. The caller had been very clever—only giving instructions as to where the storage locker and key were located. It was assumed that curiosity would take over and do the rest. It had. Something had to be done. The same loyalty that Jarod had secured was also determined to save him even if it meant hurting him. The path was clear now.

It took a couple hours before every team member—save Jarod had been reassembled at the Inn. They were in trouble and the plan that had been so carefully conceived, planned and executed had been unceremoniously derailed by a deranged psycho whom they were all warned to avoid—easier said than done. Geoff looked at each face as the spear of self-disgust pierced him viciously.

"Thanks for dropping whatever you were doing. This is important. To put it bluntly, we're screwed," he said tightly as he pointed to his aching limb. "I can take as many painkillers as I want but that won't change the fact that it's broken. I can't carry Thackery—even half conscious, through the tunnels. I took another look at the route and the passages are just too narrow to navigate a full-grown, semi-conscious man through without 2 arms."

"What if I meet you inside the tunnel and help you drag the man out?" Jonas asked.

"The truck you're supposed to be driving would be left unattended. It's too big of a risk to expect Centre security to leave it there without wanting to search it thoroughly. She runs too tight of a ship and Remy makes sure it gets done."

"Well, that's easily solved. I'll go with Jonas and wait in the truck while you and him bring Thackery out. I can give the guards some story as to why I'm waiting there," Barney countered eagerly.

Geoff nodded acknowledging Barney's reasonable workaround. "It would have to be a good story. Parker did a good job buttoning things down before she left. The main hitch in your idea, Barney is that interior security has been tightened. If I get caught trying to one-arm Thackery anywhere, our goose is cooked. I need one of my disguises and all parts functioning to pull this off and even with that, it would've been a gamble."

"Well, I don't see any other way. We have to contact Jarod and get him back here," Modesty stated calmly. Noticing the vague expressions of disappointment on the faces of her colleagues she added, "The main reason for him to be with Parker right now is to keep her distracted. That seems to be a moot point right now. We need a new plan and fast. The files that Sydney passed to me are disturbing to put it lightly. The only reason he hasn't put it all together is that he doesn't know anything about Thackery or the type of experiments he's been conducting. How long that holds is anyone's guess. This Sydney seems to know some oddly influential people in the Centre."

"Who cares if he figures out what Thackery's doing? He'll be as stymied as we are," Barney replied unhappily.

"Not necessarily. Like I said, Sydney knows a real oddball bunch of folks. He's on nodding terms with the Security Director and has known her for a very long time. What if he tries to bring her in on this? Also he wasn't factored in as a possible player. Sydney is a complete unknown and that makes me nervous. Pile on top of that, according to the electronic files that I have, it's obvious that Thackery is targeting Centre personnel."

"Do the files have the proof we need against Thackery?" Geoff asked quickly.

"No, too much has been redacted and without any definitive tie between Thackery and these files, what I have is supposition and guesswork."

"We still go forward in gathering the evidence. Now that we know where Cox has his computer, I'll place Barney's gizmo on it so we can get what we need and erase what the good doctor has been collecting. Meanwhile, I'll keep trying to come up with a way to get Thackery where we need him," Geoff replied.

"What if you put one of those disguises on me? I could meet you in the Centre and walk over and get Thackery. Everything keeps to the plan," Jonas offered.

"I was thinking about that too. It's still very risky but I think I should be able to get you in for a few hours without raising too many red flags. Let me think this through and figure out how we could possibly pull this off."

"What about Jarod? Are we going to inform him of the problems that have come up?" Barney asked.

"I sent him a text message but so far I haven't gotten any reply. From what I understand, Remy's also sent Parker a message but from the way he's acting, she hasn't responded either. My guess is that they've probably agreed to put their cell phones away. So the only way to contact them is to show up on their doorstep. But that's getting a bit ahead of ourselves. Let's try to keep focused on trying to make those changes work."

"Knock on wood that nothing else happens between now and then," Modesty said bleakly.

The mole took a deep breath and wondered what else _would_ go wrong.

_**The Centre  
Blue Cove, DE**_

The next day Parker's instincts in initiating the security checks were proven correct. First off, Michael was finally released from the Renewal Wing. He wasn't exactly renewed but he was ambulatory with only the slight pain from Lyle's attack seeping through the fog of pain killers. What cheered him was the sight of the new guy, Greg. The sonofabitch was something else. He was still his irritating self, smiling and insolent but Michael had been semi-conscious when Greg intervened on his behalf. Gratitude wasn't what cheered Michael, it was the sight of Greg's arm in a cast that put a grin on his grill.

Remy saw this strained greeting between the two men and knew they would at least cooperate with each other until Parker returned. She still hadn't responded to his text message and his excuses about not being in contact with her were getting thin with the Chairman. Here it was Saturday and only a very few of the executive staff were even at the Centre.

True to form, Remy put both Michael and the new guy, Greg on paperwork detail, shifting through the mountains of paperwork that each employee was required to submit in order to be employed by the Centre. It was around midday when all hell broke loose. The new guy noticed something strange between the application and the description on the state DMV records. The picture matched okay but that was the only thing that did. He passed on his discovery to Michael, who missed the discrepancies but once they were pointed out, frowned unhappily. Again the paperwork was passed on, this time to Remy. Guessing games aside, Michael immediately pointed out the inconsistencies and reluctantly gave credit where it was due. It was Remy's turn to frown thoughtfully. This was just the thing Parker was concerned about. If they hadn't been looking then it would've gone unnoticed indefinitely, making them look like fools. Once he came to a decision, Remy reached for the phone and called Broots at home. He would need someone with extraordinary skills to do a little hacking for him.

By the end of the short day, the Centre was on lockdown, the person the bogus identity papers belonged to had been apprehended and Chairman Raines, angry at the fact that Parker still managed to do her job without even being there, had given Remy 24 hours to produce Miss Parker before he issued a Schedule 7 against her. Geoff, only partially understanding this threat, knew the gig was up and that he had to reach Jarod before anyone else did or worse. Any hopes of extracting Thackery out of the Centre on their own would have to be abandoned for now. Geoff frowned as an idea occurred to him how to discretely reach Jarod.

_**Beach House  
Mid-Atlantic Shore**_

It was Saturday afternoon and the day had been practically idyllic. The sun glistened against the water, gulls cried in the distance and a warm flush had taken up residency in her head muting the usual headaches. It was as if being with the person she refused to acknowledge privately (or any other way) as the love of her life, seemed to have this affect. Even the over-crowded, over-priced restaurant had been a treat. Jarod had gotten a phone call from someone at the restaurant asking if he wanted to keep the reservations he had made in advance. Turning he explained what had happened and smilingly, Parker agreed to have lunch there. While they dressed, Parker happily teased Jarod about having lunch with a crowd rather than in each other's arms. Jarod took this teasing in stride until he looked at her with that sneaky expression he sometimes got, and said he would be willing to cancel if she were.

Parker laughed delightedly and replied, "Hey, you were the insecure one who thought this weekend would be a bust. We're going. Even if it's only to delay your unquenchable lust for an hour or so."

"And what about your unquenchable lust?"

Parker, fully dressed and ready had opened the front door by this time and finally gave Jarod the shark-like smile he had been dreading. "You took care of that a few hours ago. I think I'm good for another couple hours." The look of shocked consternation fell over his features as Parker laughed at him adding, "From the look on your face….well, anticipation is going to make you wait, Sugar. Come along, now." Behind her and much to her satisfaction, Parker was sure she heard Jarod growl in his frustration.

Now they were back, both wandering around in the buff and feeling quite sated. They had reached a point where they were comfortable with themselves in each other's presence. Parker was on the brink of saying something to Jarod when the doorbell rang. So far, no one had given them a second glance—except at the restaurant. A number of the ladies were sizing Jarod up as though they were gearing up to stage a coup however one glance at Parker quickly changed their minds. On the way to answer the door, Jarod threw her a confused expression as he pulled on his dark boxer shorts, hopping part of the way. Parker smiled at Jarod's antics and donned his bathrobe while he answered the door.

All Parker could see was the set of Jarod's shoulders since his body blocked any view of the visitor. Their conversation was quiet and from the sounds of it, the other person was a man. Jarod grunted and moved to take whatever the stranger was offering. He stepped halfway back from the doorway to look at the envelope in his hand. This gave the stranger enough leeway to peer around Jarod and into the room. His face steered in Parker's direction and stayed there. It was his face, since his eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. He was dressed much like a UPS delivery driver with the brown uniform but there was something about him that said he was anything but. The man was of medium height and muscular. The thought that sprang readily to mind was that he reminded her of a more self-assured Broots; the pallor and obvious curiosity a match to Broots' usual social ineptness. Jarod turned around to find the delivery guy openly ogling her. Without warning, Jarod took what had to be a bogus delivery confirmation receipt, shoved it back into the admiring fellow's hands and practically slammed the door in his face.

Jarod's face was blank and he had that expression he usually got when he was thinking hard and fast. This caused Parker to lift an eyebrow and to rearrange the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

"What did your contact have to say? Time for you to come home?"

Jarod looked up, still blank faced. All weekend she had been anticipating him, as though she could read his mind. If he wasn't so crazy about her, Jarod would've been worried about this newest wrinkle in Parker's repertoire. Jarod frowned slightly and then staring directly into her eyes, Parker knew he would tell her the truth. "It's about you. Something's going on at the Centre and they've initiated a search for you. My contact inside says it's urgent."

"Ah lovely, with my luck, it'll involve one of the technical staff doing a runner. Raines waits for these little inanities to happen just so he can remind me that he has a purpose. What joy." Parker replied as she got up to retrieve her bag with her cell phone. She had purposely avoided it, but now there was no helping it. When she picked up the device, Parker smiled, shark-like again. Jarod had turned it off; they really needed to have a talk. When she powered it up, the phone registered 12 unread messages. Parker kept her back to Jarod as she began reading through them.

Jarod watched Parker looking at her cell phone and strode into the bedroom to retrieve his neglected phone. He noticed that it had been turned off when he had made sure it was left on the last time he checked. Smiling fondly, he powered on the device to find 5 pending messages and began reading. When Jarod reentered the living room he found Parker perched on the back of the couch staring into space, cell phone still clutched in her hand. The bathrobe sash had loosened which caused the robe to drape loosely on her frame. Her tousled hair was wavy and fell artfully around her shoulders while framing her face. To Jarod, she was beyond lovely and he felt every inch of his luck to be with her.

"You're making me feel things that for the longest, I never knew existed. Feelings that seemed only for others and unattainable for me," he said in a low voice. Jarod wasn't sure how far the Centre would force them apart but he would make it a point to find a way around it.

Parker smiled and looked down at her phone without seeing it. Turning the device over in her hand she replied, "We have to talk. These past few days were beyond anything I could've imagined and I will always treasure them but we both know who and what I am and falling for each other was never an option."

"You are what you make yourself, not how _they_ define you. Right now, my definition is very pleasing. It's called getting to know you."

"You were the one to remind me of my past—the rumors. To set the record straight, I haven't had half as many affairs as my cheering public would like to lie at my door. But as you know, I'm not the nicest person either."

"It's a bit late to try and back out now. I'm willing to put up a fight if that's what you're wondering. But let's concentrate on more pressing matters. What we have to do is get you back before Raines finds out anything further. Have you worked out what you're going to say when he asks where you've been?" he asked swiftly turning the tide of the conversation. The last thing Jarod wanted was for her to dump him after the weekend had been so special.

Smiling Parker turned around to see Jarod coming out of the bedroom with some of their scattered belongings bundled in his arms. She watched as he jammed the mess into his overnight bag. Jarod rushed through the house as he systematically erased all signs of their inhabitance. When he looked up, Parker had reappeared fully dressed with bags in hand. She had taken care of erasing all signs of their residency in the bedroom and adjoining bath while Jarod attended to the living room and kitchen areas.

"Come on, Aunt Dorothy. Time I hit the road back to the old homestead."


	21. Lock Down

**Disclaimer:** Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statements  
**Author's note:** Again I apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. Life has been very difficult but in addition to that, I made some changes in my thinking about this plot. I hope all that read this truly enjoy it!

* * *

**Mission Impossible**

**(Chapter 21 -**

**Source)**

The trip back had been uneventful except for the heaviness in the air between them. Jarod could tell from Parker's closed expression that she was reconstructing the face she had abandoned during their long weekend together. He wanted to say something, but nothing would come to mind. He knew she did this to survive; to expect or demand anything different would be unreasonable. The weekend had met all Jarod's most ardent expectations and though he had initially been apprehensive—given his past experiences and her reputation, now after the fact, he was glad of their liaison. He spent the time driving at top speed back to Blue Cove formulating a plan on how the two of them could stay together. The only troublesome spot in his pleasant reveries was Parker's growing ability to anticipate him. Never before had she demonstrated this skill and for it to show up now left him with a bevy of unanswered questions.

After having Jarod drop her off at their pre-arranged spot, Parker retrieved her Lexus from the garage facility, paid the usual fee and roared off towards the Centre. Her bags she left in Jarod's possession since something inside her warned that Raines would push his authority and have her vechicle searched. The last thing Parker wanted was for Raines to have proof that she had spent the weekend with a man. The demented ghoul would set his own sweepers on the mystery and do everything in his power to discover her lover's identity and that would be disastrous. She didn't mention any of this to Jarod, just quietly asked him to drop her things off at her place when he had a chance. She knew he was concerned about her but she didn't want to be distracted by her thoughts and feelings for him. It crossed her mind that he seemed to be less of an enigma to her than before, but she shrugged and figured it was their growing closeness that effected this change.

It was early evening by the time Parker arrived at the massive complex. She had entered through a rarely used entrance and slowly made her way through several interconnected and equally unfrequented passageways towards her office. The voices began chanting clearly in her mind. Something had happened and Raines was unhappy because it was her precautions that had discovered it. Parker smiled self-consciously, knowing without a doubt that Remy would be waiting for her around the next corner. Her second had been watching the monitors and spotted her arrival.

"Director, I hope you enjoyed your weekend," Remy stated as she rounded the bend. Once again his accent gently rearranged his words into a pleasant burr. Remy also noticed that as of late he had been completely unable to surprise his boss. After being freshly hired, he had purposely laid in wait for Parker in order to startle her, which he did, and received an angry scowl as a reward—to Remy, a thing of beauty. From then on he took care to find new ways of startling her. That no longer happened. Now it was he who was greeted with a wry, thoroughly unsurprised twist of the lips and a nod of welcome.

"Talk to me. I have at least another 36 hours before I was due back. What did you find during the security sweeps?"

"The boys discovered an anomaly in an executive's paperwork. New guy raised a red flag, then Michael had a look an' then passed it on to me. We have the fellow in custody," Remy intoned as he fell effortlessly in step with his beautiful superior.

"An executive?" Parker asked as her gait slowed significantly. "Who championed him?"

Remy understood her reference immediately. "Dr. Cox seems to have recommended and pushed the fellow though. His requests were rubber stamped by the Chairman, bypassing our usual protocols."

"Someone from his staff?" she asked as she came to a complete stop.

"Non, Ma'am. Fella was put in the Finance department, working out budgets for routine projects. We have accountants going through every transaction he approved or checked or even looked at. Broots an' his folks are going over his computer with a fine tooth comb and checking the system for any anomalies he might of added. Seems the Project Financing department has a lotta redundant procedures, so Mr. Leary didn't have a chance to do much damage on their end. Being a newbie, they only gave him access to fairly low-level assignments."

Parker's eyes narrowed at the mention of the name. "Leary? Wait a minute, am I thinking of the right person?" she muttered quietly to herself. "Geez, the look-alike. You say Cox and Raines brought him in?" At Remy's affirmative nod, Parker began walking again. "I figured his looks weren't a coincidence. The thing I don't get is the reason. Mixing work with pleasure is for armatures. They're up to something and I have a bad feeling it has everything to do with me. Now their man turns out to be a security risk at best, a spy at worst."

"The Chairman threatened to issue a Schedule 7 if I hadn't heard from you by 8:00pm."

"A Schedule 7?? Give me a break," she replied in a voice full of disgust. "Prelim Drug Development must've given his oxygen tank a shot of psychedelics. Next, he'll be dreaming up another crackpot conspiracy theory. You know, the manager of PDD owes me. We'll have to make sure they cook up something special just for the Chairman. Reality is a long time in teaching that old ghoul some manners."

"_Bien entendu, cher_. (Of course) Did you get my text messages?"

"I read them on my way in. Fill in the details for me," she replied, automatically turning down a semi-dark hallway that was unfamiliar to Remy who followed along side her without hesitation. Remy was unaware but Parker was obeying the voices by taking the route less traveled, neatly avoiding being ambushed by her twin.

Twenty minutes later, Parker was standing at the front of the elevator car. Given her lofty position and her past, she took advantage of never having to unnecessarily ride in a crowded elevator. Parker knew her mother didn't actually die in the conveyance, but after living a lifetime believing the lie, it was difficult to shake the habit. As a result, only a part of her entourage was allowed in with her. As she stepped through with Remy, Geoff elbowed his way past to edge out a scowling Michael and took the last spot in Parker's elevator. In a second elevator, Michael and Sam arrived seconds later on SL-27.

"What in the _hell_ are we doing down here?" Parker aggrievedly asked no one in particular.

Not fully understanding her pique, Remy answered, "The prisoner was brought down here by Chairman Raines' personal sweepers. He gave orders for us to meet him at the eastern end of this level."

This was a first time visit for everyone except Parker and Sam. The burly sweeper remained silent and as if in response to Remy, Sam stepped up to walk along side Parker opposite Remy. Geoff wondered about the protective stance the senior sweeper took and kept his attention alert for any potential threats.

Nothing further was said as Parker led the group to a set of double doors and after pausing and taking a deep breath, she yanked them open to have them immediately caught by both Remy and Sam as the group filed through.

"Feeling insecure, Sis? Or does SL-27 hold any particular fondness for you?" Lyle asked. His eyes slid lazily past his victims, Michael and Geoff before ignoring Remy and settling on Sam.

Parker disregarded Lyle's presence and walked up to face both Raines and Cox. Raines was flanked by a tall steroid-happy goon trying hard to look like a sweeper. Willie belatedly walked in and whispered in Raines' ear—Raines didn't allow any reaction, that is if he could have one, to show on his usually dour face. Cox tilted his head to one side as though evaluating Parker, her responses and measuring them against her temperament.

"What's going on here? This situation was uncovered by my team and we're going to handle this by the book before turning him over to the Feds. Not to worry, Mr. Chairman, we'll spend some quality time questioning him. I'll even let you watch."

"I don't believe you have the full story, Miss Parker. Discretion in this case is the better part of valor. Perhaps it would be best to send some of your entourage packing before going any further," Cox replied with calm assurance.

Raines breathed loudly and when there was no reply, Raines stated, "That wasn't a suggestion, Miss Parker."

"The moment I take 'suggestions' from Dr. Mengele is the second I walk out of this _Saw_ re-make. Why did you bring the prisoner down here?"

When it became clear that neither man had any intention of answering her before she complied with their request, Lyle piped up to keep the turmoil boiling between his sister, Cox and their so-called 'father'. "This is a win, lose situation we have before us. Seems you've made quite the catch. From all accounts, our guest here is a Source asset and no one's found out that little fact until now. Guess one slipped through the cracks. Your people dropped the ball before picking it up again."

Still without looking at her sibling, Parker trained her gaze on Raines and stated unequivocally, "My people discovered this breach. You and Cox were the one's who pushed through his application. My division had no hand in his background checks. Now I'm wondering if that's because of his supposed qualifications, or perhaps his looks. If it was the former, your ass covering is blowing flatulence in that theory. If the latter, well that means something else altogether. What are you two playing at?"

"Really? I find it interesting that you would make such a leap. I admit that I submitted Mr. Leary's application directly to the Chairman. He was recommend to me by a friend, whom I assure you will be advised of my dissatisfaction. Any accidental resemblance, I'm sure is nothing but a coincidence."

A sardonic scoff came from Lyle, while Parker looked her disbelief. "Whatever, La-La land. If he really is Source, then you should already know there are protocols in place for handling this. We're on the clock so why did you waste any time bringing him down here?"

"His questioning is on a need to know basis. Get rid of you team, Miss Parker. Once we're finished, you will sanitize him," Raines replied breathily.

Parker stepped back and stared at him. Her other 'father' had tried to make her assassinate what turned out to be her own un-beloved twin. Now Raines was trying to test her loyalty in a similar fashion.

"Nice try but I'm not buying. You brought in the trash, it's up to you to clean up behind it. What do you plan on telling the Feds?"

"Nothing. What they don't know, they can not investigate. It's your job to see that this is handled properly, Miss Parker," deep breath. "Insubordination will not be tolerated."

"Hummm, let me see a Director of Security whose hiring procedures were circumvented by the corporate Chairman, in trouble because she found a mole brought in by said Chairman. Then the same executive turns around and conceals this important breach in security from our host government. Have your tantrum but I ducking out before the self-serving sermon bores me to death."

"I have a better idea. Project R still needs a viable research subject. I say this fellow is exactly what the Doctor ordered—so to speak."

"An excellent idea, Dr. Cox," Raines intoned after a long pause, his eyes riveted to Parker's. "There are a number of medical projects that could use our prisoner's input. A long term solution for an inconvenient problem. When we're done with him, I will expect you to eliminate any remains."

Parker grimaced as she mulled over this response. Meanwhile, Raines' mouth stretched in his approximation of a smile as he signaled his sweepers to untie the hapless Tommy look-alike executive from the cage he had been secured against. Willie and his muscled helper had just detached the man and had him standing sandwiched between them when Parker came to a fatal conclusion. She had reached behind her back and pulled her 9mm when a shot rang out in the large room. Every eye turned in time to see the prisoner's legs fold out from under him as he slumped lifeless to the floor. Sam stood upright in the classic sideways shooters stance. His 9mm lowered to the floor as a column of blood began to leak readily from the hole Sam's bullet made in the prisoner's skull.

Cox looked at the weapon in Parker's hand and said laconically, "Excellent shot, Miss Parker."

His voice jarred her as she turned to stare at him. Slowly, Parker holstered her weapon and backed away. A thud sounded nearby as Willie released the body allowing it to fall unceremoniously to the floor. "Problem solved. Find your own cleaners for the mess. Consider this my charity donation, you won't see any more of my generosity for a long time." Parker backed up until she was in the midst of her team before releasing the butt of her pistol, whirled around and walked out of the room, trailing sweepers. She was half way down the hall when the sounds of running footsteps came up from behind. Michael glanced behind him. When he noticed who it was, Michael practically threw himself out of the way to avoid colliding with the runner.

"Parker, wait up. I need a word with you," Lyle called out with a note of satisfaction.

When he reached her, Parker turned and grabbing hold of her twin's jacket lapels, slammed him with some force into the hallway wall and immediately got into his face. "If I _ever_ hear that you've touched another member of my staff without cause, without forewarning, without so much as a note from your psychiatrist, I will not only make sure you're fingerless but you'll be begging delusional daddy back there for a sweeper to keep you company. You wanted my attention you got it," Parker released him and then backed away with fire in her eyes. Her anger had a force of its own that caused all the men in the hallway to stare apprehensively at her with respect—though her stomach gave a nauseating twist as she noticed her twin's admiring gaze. "Back off, little brother. I'm not in the mood."

As Geoff and Michael followed in Parker's wake, Michael turned to Geoff with the same expression of confusion, disbelief and reluctant admiration for their overly complicated boss. They both were as unnerved as Parker at the sight of the debased hunger in Lyle's face for his own twin.

_**Trader's Inn  
Blue Cove, DE **_

Jarod's return to his team revealed several things at once. Primarily that Geoff was still at the Centre, a part of the recent lockdown that demanded Parker's return. The other items of interest were equally encouraging and disturbing. Modesty took charge filling Jarod in on the problems and progress they encountered while he was away.

"What is this about moving the development lab? Your text was very brief."

"Yes. Thackery's running scared. He's afraid they will eliminate him if this whole farce turns out to be the travesty that it is. To go along with this new attitude, he's given me access to his files and the precious compound. I'm in the process of going over some of the key elements in his documents that need changing. My job made easier and more dangerous. Nothing's as tricky as dealing with a paranoid who thinks he's smarter than everyone else, especially a dimwitted bimbo."

"So, he's underestimating you because of your looks—excellent. He's making this easier than I could've hoped. Is it too much to ask if the victims are named in his paperwork?" Jarod asked with a hopeful smile.

"Sorry, his work is very carefully constructed. All patients are referred to by a reference number only—that's fairly typical. As for misjudging me, of course, anyone with as closed a mind as his, could never consider that a woman might be able to outmaneuver him. He's brilliant but this is almost child's play," she replied with a nod. "Another bonus of the move are the burn bags. I finally got a look at them. Dr. Cox makes sure those in his department are given a generous supply.

"Excellent."

"Okay, that's the good news. The second half isn't so pleasant." He listened with a sinking heart and without interrupting her, trying to get a handle if their mission was salvageable or if he would have to completely rethink their strategy.

"Do you know where the woman who approached you works?"

"No. She didn't even give me her name. She was being very cautious but apparently, she's wary of her handlers as well."

"She should be. I can't see there being much of a future as a spotter. You would learn too much for them to trust you and not enough to know when to get out. The last thing the Centre would want is someone whose been in her position to hang around long enough to become a liability."

"This place is more multifaceted than a prism," Modesty said with a shake of her head. On the surface the Centre appeared to be just another multi-national conglomerate. Scratch just a bit under the surface and the beast took on a different complexion. Take it in at a different angle and it seemed to transform itself before the very eyes.

"You say that someone named Broots gave you a flash drive? He's not one to act on his own initiative without substantial cause. I would guess that someone else is involved, someone he trusts. Did he say who sent him?"

A look of respectful surprise filled her face as Modesty replied, "The head of Psychiatric services, an elderly doctor named Sydney. I've spoken to him and did a little checking. His resume is quite impressive and his theories about the treatments are practically intuitive."

"Then it was Sydney who put together your data. He was the one who told Broots what to look for and who needed it. Does he accept your cover? Any idea if he knows about what Cox is really up to?"

"Yes and no. He's a wily customer; plays things very close to the vest. He suspects that I'm more than just a mere psychiatric assistant. What concerns me is that he seems genuinely upset over what he's been told about this project but I have no idea where he is in the social pecking order, what his resources are or what kind of influence he has in this place."

"The sooner we can revise and execute our original tactics, the less chance Sydney or anyone else can become a factor. Keep an eye out for him but try to avoid giving him any more information. What about the data he gave you? Is there anything useful in it?"

"Not really. It's more along the lines of what I was originally given; heavily redacted with only a few specific traits to assist in an assessment but still not enough information to actually ID the victims. It's strange. I saw a greeting between Miss Parker and Sydney a while ago. At first I thought they were at odds, but when I followed him to his office, there was a picture of her on his desk. He seems oddly paternal towards her."

"Sydney had a photo of Parker on his desk?"

"Yes, a college graduation picture from back when she was a teenager. He had it hidden behind a couple larger pictures of his family. When I asked him about it, he said that since the Security Director no longer visited him much, he decided it was safe to put it out. His tone of voice and manner made it seem as if he secretly cares for her. But why the secrecy? If she knew, would she ridicule him, use him or dismiss his love?"

"Interesting," Jarod replied deeply in thought. He always knew that Sydney cared for Parker but the psychiatrist always seemed to observe a hands off approach to her—much more so than he had done with Jarod. Sydney occasionally went so far as to usurp Parker's trust in deference to Jarod, proving that he was a secure inside resource. This reminded him of the agency's other embedded team. Jarod nodded thoughtfully and then walked over to the team's communication equipment. With graceful fluidity, Jarod sent a message to mission headquarters requesting the code information he needed to make covert contact with the leader of the other team. With any luck he would receive the necessary contact protocols within a few days. Jarod wanted to see if the other team was in a position and/or willing to assist without being discovered. As for his elderly mentor, he filed this information away but resolved to mull over it later. He had the greatest respect for Modesty's observations. She had more than proven her accuracy on numerous occasions.

"Alright, this situation with Lyle, has Geoff indicated if Lyle is still focused on him?"

"No he hasn't but the confrontation occurred right before the weekend. Geoff hasn't mentioned whether he's run into him again," Modesty replied.

"Can he use the arm at all?"

"No. It's not even in a cast, which helps in the healing but not for our purposes."

"Jarod, we just received a text from Geoff. Miss Parker has lifted the lockdown and everyone inside is being allowed to leave. His ETA is 15 minutes," Barney called out.

Geoff arrived in time to find everyone on the team waiting for him. He couldn't help but have a sense of relief at the sight of Jarod amongst them, though he refused to allow his relief to show outwardly.

"When you told us this place was about control, about keeping an amoral, brainy ally in check, I really didn't have a feel for your meaning. Now that I do, this place is starting to scare the hell out of me."

Geoff then went on to explain everything that had occurred since he discovered the discrepancy in a now dead executive's paperwork. The usually unflappable agent seemed thrown by the turn of events. Softly he muttered that never before had he been so wrong in his estimation of a person. Everyone knew he was referring to Miss Parker, who had been earning his respect.

"There are still too many unknown variables floating around. Don't jump to conclusions and it's useless to beat yourself up. Just from my limited exposure to the woman, saying she's complex is putting it lightly," Modesty replied while shooting Jarod keen look.

"It was Sam who pulled the trigger, not Parker?" Jarod asked quietly.

"Yeah, but it was clear that she was about to do it. I would've thought that Sam would be chewed out for jumping in like that, but Parker barely blinked. Then she backed out of there like she expected the Chairman to shoot her in the back. What confuses me is that she balked at being told to kill the man and then goes ahead and does it after they make threats about using him in some experiments."

"Modesty is right, you're jumping to conclusions. First, Sam took the shot because I suspect that he was trying to save face for her. Someone at her level doesn't bother getting their hands dirty," Jarod said with a grimace. "Next, you heard them refer to the imposter you found as 'Source'."

"Yes. They mentioned that a couple times. What is 'Source'?"

"Very few companies have no competitors. Any company that has enjoyed success in any business discipline has at least one but most likely several competitors trying to cash in. The Centre is larger than you can imagine, its been around for a long time and it is equally successful. If it wasn't, the Centre would've dried up and blown away decades ago.

"To say they do the dirty work others won't or can't touch is just the tip of the iceberg of what makes this corporation run. Don't get me wrong, the dirty work is extremely lucrative but there are numerous endeavors the corporation has running. One of the Centre's branches involves private military contracts. They excel in the business and one of their major competitors happens to be a company called the Source. A corporation as large as the Centre doesn't have the time or the inclination to delve too deeply in the seamy underbelly of every venture they get into—the Source has only one focus, PMC. They're touchy and are constantly trying to prove themselves the equal to the Centre—they're not. This obsession has led them down some dark, ugly roads."

"Sort of like a company with a short-man's complex, eh?" Modesty asked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood of the room.

"Exactly," Jarod agreed.

"Okay, the Source is a competitor. Why kill the guy?" Barney asked.

"The Centre is involved in a number of highly classified projects and research. Most of which has nothing to do with the government and in many cases with foreign governments. What this guy was doing was equal to industrial espionage," Geoff replied slowly.

"Correct. And there are a number of allied governments that would appreciate the Centre's direct solution rather than have them hand over the guy who would have a good chance of getting a public trial. As it is, the Centre will have to do some heavy duty internal investigations to figure out what data he had passed on to his superiors. Then there's the mention of experimentation. I can only imagine Parker's reaction to Raines' suggestion of using the prisoner as a guinea pig. She knows whatever they were planning on doing to him would be beyond horrific. Killing him quickly might have been an act of mercy," Jarod explained quietly. His team watched his every move and expression.

"How do we proceed with everything that's happened?" Jonas prompted.

"I have a contingency plan in mind. I need to think it through before going forward. Geoff, Modesty, keep your covers intact until further notice. Modesty, I'll need you to step into the first portion of Geoff's part in this mission. Barney will be your contact and back up. To that end, you'll have to pick up some items to alter you appearance. We don't have the time to make anything as complete as what Geoff usually cooks up but just enough to befuddle anyone several yards away. I'm hoping to put Plan B in action by the end of the week. Is there anything else?"

"How was your weekend?" asked Modesty.

"It went well, better than I'd wanted," he replied leaving Modesty with a puzzled expression. "If that's all, then I'm headed over to Parker's to see how she's doing."

"What?!" Geoff exclaimed. "Jarod, I honestly think you should give her some space. Lots of space. When I left her she wasn't in the best of moods."

"I appreciate your concern. I'm asking both of you to keep up appearances, I can do no less. Besides, Parker is probably feeling pretty lousy about now. It's the perfect time to find out how she's dealing with this which should help us to figure out what her next move might be."

"I agree with Geoff, give the lady some space. Guilt has a way of making a person want to take their misery out on others," Barney seconded. Once again, Control was taking chances with his life that the situation didn't warrant.

"I know her and after this weekend, better than ever. Whatever you might think, she's not a cold blooded killer."

"This time, protocols should be followed. Wear the bug on your jacket. We'll monitor you to make sure you're not in over your head. If anything goes wrong, then we'll send Jonas in as your backup," Barney stated. Seeing the thoughtful resistance on Jarod's face, he continued, "We'll only listen in for a short time, just to make sure you're in the clear with her."

Still frowning, Jarod held out his arm for Barney to affix the listening device to the inside seam of his jacket cuff.


	22. What if?

Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statement  
Author's Note: To address a few concerns - Naw, Parker ain't going to find the bug!

**Mission Impossible**

******(Chapter 22 -  
I'm here)**

**__****Parker residence  
Blue Cove, DE **

She sat on her sofa in the semi-darkened living room. The fireplace was to her immediate right, cold and dark. A fresh glass of single-malt sat on top of a never-opened magazine on the coffee table in front of her. Leaning back, she stared into the distance, past the stylish lamp with the muted glow and past the walls that otherwise obstructed her view.

The freshly deceased Mr. Leary was now very clear in her mind. After that initial introduction, which hindsight told her either Cox or Raines had arranged, Parker had managed to bump into the low-level executive at least twice; the first time accidentally and the second on purpose. Each time he was self-effacing and very charming. Though his voice was very different, the way he held himself and even some of his mannerisms were identical to Tommy's.

He was a living reminder of all she had lost. Memory aided her attraction which had been immediate and he had all it took to tempt her into doing something very foolish, like starting a relationship with him. Leary was acceptable, even by stringent Centre standards—executive level, vetted but seemingly independent. When she tracked him down in one of the outer concourses, striking up a conversation out of the blue, Leary happily let himself be drawn into a light banter. He had claimed that a friend of a friend of a friend had recommended him for the position, probably in an effort to divorce themselves from him if he fell flat on his face or to claim credit and the generous finder's fee he wouldn't get any part of, if he didn't. Before they had been interrupted by her new sweeper, Greg, Parker had found herself laughing genuinely at something he had said. It would've been easy to fall for Leary. The memory of Tommy lingered in her soul—the desire and the guilt. If she had left Tommy alone, if she hadn't reached out for him, he would've been alive today, vibrant and happy.

Once again, Jarod had come to the rescue, this time unknowingly. Just as she was starting to notice Leary, there was the wily pretender, shyly asking her out to dinner. The following week with Jarod had driven all thoughts of chasing a dead dream from her mind. But there were too many 'what ifs' roaming freely in her head, infecting her peace of mind. What if Jarod hadn't been there, hadn't been around with his tantalizing qualities of shy ingeniousness and appealing directness? Age was slowly catching up with her handsome old friend and the intervening years had caused his features to gracefully mature. There was an edginess of experience and naïveté that only Jarod could possess. The siren song of his company trumped the draw from the past that Leary represented.

If Jarod hadn't been there, hadn't engaged her interest, hadn't beat Leary to the punch by at least a couple weeks, she probably would've given in to the foolish temptation and then what? Raines and Cox would've had a field day watching as she struggled to come to terms with symbolically killing Tommy. The first time she had the agony of cradling his dead body in her arms; this time it would be at her own hands or on her orders. Either way, she would've wound up a basket case. Parker knew what they were expecting, for her to beg and plead for Leary's life. In truth, the thought had crossed her mind but for different reasons than they had wanted. Killing wasn't something she had ever gotten used to though several times she had been directly responsible for the deaths of others.

Parker rubbed her aching temples as she leaned forward and took a deep pull from her drink. She remained slumped over, elbows on knees and deep in thought. The moment the shot rang out, the previously absent thudding in her head promptly returned to a magnitude that felt 20 times worse than before. It was as if the constant headache responded to the violence. Usually being with Jarod gave her at least a day's respite and the angry thudding that caused her very bones to ache would take at least another 2 to reach this level of intensity. Parker breathed in slowly and forced herself to relax and remain still for several minutes. It had no effect. Out of nowhere, without a sound or scent to alert her, Parker knew Jarod was in the room. A tiny sensation that she had come to associate with him tingled in her mind. Strangely, it was still distinguishable despite the tsunami of pain raging within her skull.

"Hello, Jarod. What can I do for you?"

"I brought our bags. I thought we could go through them and separate our stuff together while you tell me why they needed you to return so badly. Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"Good answer but not entirely candid. I suspect your "contact" in the Centre has already informed you."

"I've never lied to you, Parker. And I have no intention of starting now. If I wanted to rely on someone else's opinion about you, I wouldn't have asked," Jarod replied, wondering how she had known he was even there. He hadn't made a sound.

When she failed to respond, he tried again. "I'm guessing here but I figure since your sitting in the dark, then there just might be some truth in what I've heard."

Jarod stared at her. She was slumped over, a half empty glass of scotch sat before her. Head in hands, having yet to actually look up, she earned his sympathy. A pained expression crossed Jarod's face. He longed to touch her but knew she wouldn't want that. However, he was unable to merely standby while she was in such obvious pain. With cat-like grace he walked over and sat by her side, waiting for her to say or do something.

"I can't do this right now, Jarod. You need to leave."

"I'm sorry but I can't. You're in pain and I'm staying here with you. This time I won't let you push me away."

Several minutes ticked by, while he watched as Parker mourned her own actions. She said nothing as though waiting with baited breath to see if he would break his word. Then without preamble, she began to recount what had occurred, leaving nothing out, including the victim's resemblance to her dead lover.

Jarod listened with creeping horror. He knew that at best Geoff could only give him a slanted view based on few facts and almost no background. None of what Geoff saw today really had anything to do with their core mission—Thackery. What it served was to give a harsh flavor of what the corporation was all about. Ever cognizant of the listening device affixed to the sleeve of his jacket, Jarod realized that his team needed to hear this while keeping in focus the reasons for this mission. He and his team were there to extract a brilliant, sadistic madman—nothing else. What caused Jarod's heart to race in indignation was the fact that Raines continued to try and wheedle his darkest whims out of the dwindling number of decent and talented people around him. To twist the best of minds and hearts seemed to be that particular Sphincter's most noble wish. Without thinking, he reached out and touched her. Slowly he caressed her back, trying to comfort a pain he knew he could never take away.

Parker felt his hand and intent. Here Jarod was again—to the rescue. He couldn't have any idea how good that felt and how badly she needed him. Leary's death alone had taken its toll on her conscience, the ramifications behind the death, chilled her like ice-water in her veins. Slowly she turned around to look at Jarod, which prompted him to reach out further and gather her gently in his arms. Parker allowed this and found herself wrapped in a hug that enveloped her mind with the sense of being safe, loved and comforted. Parker repositioned herself to garner the full benefits of Jarod's embrace and clung to him, not wanting to let him go.

It was in this moment, at this time that the treatments Dr. Thackery had submitted Parker to had come into full fruition. As Jarod held the woman he had come to love, the chemical imbalance in her brain, caused by the induction compound was finally neutralized. Jarod had achieved what no other person had to date. He had counterbalanced the induction drug before it began to wreak havoc on Parker's besieged brain and mind. The only suggestion that something was amiss or different was Parker's uncanny ability to anticipate him. It was just the beginning. The neutralization started a final synchronicity with the gene re-sequence that Thackery could only theorize would happen.

Had Thackery been more diligent, had he been more scientific in his method and had he been more honest with his patients and colleagues, then he might have not only achieved this result quicker but then he would've also known that he had in living bone, blood and tissue the very thing he sought—unlimited and unfettered success. But all concerned, including the victims, remained ignorant to the fact and once Jarod released Parker, she was left physically dazed and disorientated. Jarod suggested that she get some rest.

"Don't leave, please," she asked.

Heartened, Jarod immediately agreed to spend the night. At the sight of his brightened complexion, Parker smiled gently and replied, "I'm so tired all of sudden. Can we just sleep together—no sex?"

"Of course, I'll stay as long as you need. You still want to sleep together? I can stay out here on the couch."

"No, I would prefer if you were with me, if that's alright?"

"I think I can dredge up enough self-restraint. Just barely," he added with a smile.

"Thank you." Parker smiled sleepily and led the way to her bedroom.

* * *

**_Near Parker's residence  
Blue Cove, DE_**

In a non-descript surveillance van parked on a side street not far from Parker's house, Jarod's team listened to the conversation provided by the bug on his jacket. Leaning back, Geoff shook his head, thunderstruck. The two knew each other well and that had nothing to do with the latter part of their conversation. For the first time during this op, Geoff wondered just how well and how long Jarod knew the elusive Miss Parker.

"What kind of sick place would have a Chairman who finds a look-alike for an executive's dead lover and use him as a plant to get her to mess up?" Jonas asked aloud.

"And then expect her to kill the man on top of it. The look on his face while he tried to goad her into it, geez this place is a nightmare," Geoff intoned softly. "How can she remain working for him, or at this place?"

"I'm not sure which is which: the corruption that is rife in the people who work there or the place that nourishes and breeds the corruption," Barney added grimly.

"Now wait a minute, Jarod's right. There are a number of things to keep in mind here. First off, before we heard her side of the story, I think all of us were ready to indict Parker for second degree murder. All this conversation proves is that there is a hell of a lot more going on at this place than we could ever know in a month's time. If the Centre is as corrupt as we're feeling then how in the devil can it remain in business? Why would any decent person work here? I've met plenty Centre employees who seem as decent and honest people as you would meet in any other corporation of this size. If the past month has taught me one thing about the Centre, it's that nothing is as it appears."

Nodding eagerly Geoff said, "She's right. We still have a job to do: Remove Thackery from the Centre's protection without anyone knowing—especially the Security Director. Our window of opportunity has pretty much closed, so I'm hoping whatever Plan B Jarod has up his sleeve is a doozy."

**__****The Centre  
Blue Cove, DE**

Sydney sat in his office. It was late at night and everyone who had been cooped up during the lockdown had long since gone home. The psychiatrist stayed in his office working well into the night. Normally he would've been at Michelle's where he now spent the majority of his time. The Centre had taken most of his family from him—as it had done to so many others, like Jarod and Parker. He had a chance to recapture what he had previously lost and was resolved not to take anything for granted. He carried this thought all the way through to the way he drove home. He never took the same route home 2 days in a row and always checked to see if he was being followed. Michelle had a disposable cell phone to use in cases of emergency and Broots had wired Michelle's house so that their Internet connection was about as secure as the latest in security software could make it.

Tonight, he stayed in his office to see if he could find out any more details behind the lockdown and what had occurred on SL-27. Parker had been involved but by all accounts, she had only been in the Centre long enough to be informed of the reasons behind the lock down and then to lift it, before leaving once again. Sydney was startled out of his reverie by the ringing of the phone next to him.

"This is Sydney."

"Hello, Doctor."

Eyes moving surreptitiously, Sydney could tell that no one was physically near. The weekend day and hour reassured him of his privacy.

"Where have you been? You missed our appointment. Has anything happened to you? Do you know what's happened here today?"

"Yes doctor, I'm fully aware of what's happening here, though I must admit at being a little surprised by your presence."

"I occasionally come here on the weekends to catch up on paperwork. During the week, my duties are such that they require my fullest attention. I don't always have time for bureaucracy."

"I see. Well, I've been keeping an eye on our common interest. Her file didn't mention that she's taken a life before."

"Really? What does that have to do with anything? What would you expect from the security director of an international corporation like the Centre; connections, college degrees but no experience? Those only go so far in that line of work. At least Parker has a conscience to along with brains and experience—her father, Mr. Parker, made sure she got plenty of experience."

"Interesting. She never struck me as a murderess. Perhaps we should find someone else for our plans."

"You misunderstand. Parker has defended herself against some very impressive enemies. She's not a cold-blooded killer, but she's clever, careful and does have a tendency of shoot back when attacked. You can rest assured that she is more than qualified to handle what we've discussed; both mentally and emotionally."

"Let's hope so for her sake, doctor. I'll keep in touch. We'll meet later on this week."

The line was disconnected before Sydney could ask another question.

* * *

**__****Parker Residence  
Blue Cove, DE**

She woke up with a start. Looking around, she was momentarily disorientated. It was as if she had been walking around in a fog for the past few weeks. She remembered everything she did, said, saw and experienced. The problem was it felt like someone else had taken over her body. Parker lay there in her bed trying to wrap her mind around her life. So many things had happened in such a short amount of time. One of the most startling was that somehow her alter-ego had taken over and consented to become Jarod's latest conquest. She had not only made love to him, but thoroughly enjoyed it. This went against the grain but she was at a loss about how to properly deal with it. The other thing about waking up normal once again was the pain. Her headaches had vanished. Sometime during the night, her body had finally won the battle. She couldn't imagine how she was able to continue to function with that constant pain. Even with Jarod's irritating squeezes, he would manage to only lessen the pain but it wouldn't completely release her. Now it had. She knew she was free but couldn't explain how or why now.

Parker tried to shift her position but only then became aware that someone was lying close to her. Gingerly looking around, she remembered asking him to stay last night but was hoping that was only a disturbing dream. It wasn't. Jarod was there, hair mussed in slumber, blankets covering only the lower half of his body. She couldn't help it, it was practically involuntary, dismissed it as a hormonal glitch but she was actually drooling over him. He grunted softly in his sleep as he became aware that the left half of his body had lost the body warming him.

Parker's eyes widened as she realized that by moving she was waking him. Without waiting, afraid of what she would do, Parker slipped out of bed and practically ran into the bathroom—away from the confusing temptation that swept over her.


	23. Fracture Repaired

**Disclaimer**: Please see Chapter 1  
**Author's Note:** Once again, I apologize for not posting this sooner. It has been difficult for me to write for a variety of reasons. I thank all those who are still reading this story! and yeah, there is more to come...

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 23  
Sunday morning)**

**__****Parker residence  
Blue Cove, DE **

Waking in unfamiliar places was something he had long gotten used to doing. In fact, the unfamiliar had been most welcome when he escaped from the Centre. Now it was more of the norm than anything else. Jarod spent the majority of his time on the road and so very little time at home that it too was now as unfamiliar as any other place. No, what woke him was movement, but looking around, he noticed he was alone. Yet his mind had registered something familiar. Ah, it came to him as he allowed a hearty yawn to escape. Breathing deeply, he could smell the faint scent of her perfume—Parker had been beside him. Her scent reminded him of a picture he had taken of her at the beach—well several pictures before she snatched the camera from his hand. He had already previewed them and decided to enlarge one in particular for framing. This brought a smile to his face that quickly began to fade as a memory of something Modesty had said began to intrude. Right, Sydney. Jarod wondered what the Centre was up to and for about the thousandth time, he considered calling Sydney to get his take on it. Jarod resisted for the thousandth time. There was something very strange going on but alerting Sydney to his renewed interest in the Centre and Thackery in particular could jeopardize everything. However, the thought of Sydney having a picture of Parker on is desk only further extended the strange around the psychiatrist, making Jarod wonder. He knew his mentor had a soft spot for his usually prickly co-worker. But in every conversation Jarod recalled having with Sydney about Parker, he had only expressed friendship, and on occasion mild disappointment in her devotion to the Centre but nothing further—nothing _paternal_. For Sydney, having Parker's photo on his desk, among his private, personal things, meant that she was being put in a very different light. Modesty mentioning it and Sydney's explanations to her for the photo being there had a strangeness of its own.

Speaking of his team, Jarod sprang up from the bed and walked quietly out of the room. He could hear the water running for Parker's shower but he didn't want her to hear him moving about. His leather jacket was draped casually across the back of the couch where he left it last night. Jarod, self-consciously pulled on a pair of boxer shorts before carefully picking up the jacket and quietly hanging it in the closet between a winter coat and a plastic-slip covered suit. That ought to muffle any sounds the receiver might otherwise pick up on, giving him the privacy he craved to have with her.

As an afterthought, he straightened the couch pillows and throw that had been dislodged last night. Then in a fit of laziness, he flopped down on top of what he had just neatened and fell into a leisurely doze.

Parker emerged from the shower somewhat refreshed but still confused by her sudden comeback. Somehow the well protected and concealed part of her personality had came out and took over completely. It was as though that piece she rarely allowed anyone to see, had somehow managed to exert itself unimpeded. The weird part of the entire experience was what she had always considered as her tender, easily hurt underbelly, wasn't as vulnerable or ineffective as she had previously thought. Or rather yet, that vulnerable side was tougher, more self-reliant and turned out, in the end, to be cleverer, craftier, as well as more honest with herself and others than the so-called tough side of her. The result was the stubbornly, persistent sensation of peace that had been so very long absent from her life. The past couple weeks, she had reacted to Jarod's pain-relieving hugs instinctually. The relief his embrace provided was met with a patience Parker was unaccustomed to indulging. She knew he was up to something, probably trying to distract her from whatever ingenious scheme that brought him back in the first place. Her patience was well rewarded because keeping him close and maintaining his interest helped her to continue to function by giving her temporary relief from the pain. The migraine agony she endured kept her hostage but somewhere in the middle of everything, she fell in love. It was strange really. A part of her fell hard for Jarod while her previously dominate nature was yelling in vain for her to toughen up and quit being an idiot. What really took the cake was that what she considered her _real_ self was succumbing to him as well. This was like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. The underlining problem was her needs. The obvious ones she had and the ones she kept hidden from others. Jarod was doing a great job of tending to both sets.

Her long held assumptions returned assuring her that realty would reign supreme because the pretender was sure to disappear once his little game was over, leaving her to pick up the pieces—as usual. This time the pieces would mostly belong to her. Jarod wouldn't, couldn't return her love. Though the look in his eyes said different, they had been through too much for Parker not to know how their little tryst would end. She was too old for fairy tales and too cynical to hope in them. Deep in thought, she almost started to apply her usual workday make-up when it hit her, it was Sunday. So much had happened since the start of her long weekend that it felt more like a couple weeks had passed rather than a few days.

Automatically, she walked from the bathroom into her adjacent bedroom and belatedly realized what she had done. Jarod was no where in sight, as she hurriedly rushed into some underwear. Throwing on a robe, she ventured into the living room to find the pretender stretched out on the couch, fast asleep. There was nothing about his presence that seemed out of place or discordant. He looked very comfortable and strangely at home. Parker stood transfixed in the doorway staring at him, wondering what to do next. Again without thinking, she walked over and paused. In slumber, Jarod reminded her of the sweet 14-year old boy she once had a crush on so long ago. The memory slid an unconscious smile on her face as she leaned over and lightly brushed her fingers along his hairline and down the side of his face. Then as an afterthought, she leaned over further and kissed his mouth. Parker remained close as Jarod leisurely woke up. Her alter ego fully reasserted itself and the dangerous emotions that shocked and nonplussed her before, returned in full force. Unable to control herself and at the heart of it, unwilling, Parker kissed Jarod again, lingeringly. Only at the last second before drawing away did she catch his lip between her teeth and playfully tugged. Jarod then opened his eyes.

They stared at one another without speaking. He knew what was in his face, how he felt about her. In her eyes, he could see that she had once again begun struggling with accepting her feelings. At one point, while they were sequestered in the beach house, Jarod had gotten the distinct impression that she had come to terms with what was going on between them—something changed. Unwilling to allow the Centre in the form of Raines to come between them, Jarod smiled and pulling her closer, he returned the kiss. Parker settled in on the couch next to him, still wondering how she had allowed this to happen.

An hour later, trying in vain to keep the large, satisfied grin from showing; Parker came to the conclusion that in some cases, she was absolutely indefatigable. Jarod, who was still sleepy from watching protectively over her for most of the night, had almost immediately fallen asleep. The rich aroma of coffee filled the room as Parker sipped her fragrant cup of java and stared out of the window completely engrossed in her thoughts. What she was feeling was different than ever before. Jarod had touched that part of her which had been neglected for so long. Neglect originally from being taken for granted and later from her own protective stance. With her alter-ego, or whatever it was, in control, Parker was able to tap into a part of herself that previously had been closed. More things had been locked away than her own soft underbelly. This time around, no one was going to mess with the jewel she had discovered. She had allowed the worst to happen with Tommy because she had shut up this part of herself. Everyone thought her tears stemmed from loss. They were partially correct. What Parker had mourned was her guilt over her ineptitude and the terrible toll it exacted. Why she ever told her father she was leaving escaped her. No one would ever know about Jarod and for once that had nothing to do with the fact that he was a hunted pretender. Parker was determined to enjoy every precious second with him as another smile grew steadily on her face as the sight of her hastily removed bra draped on the lamp shade caught her eye. Logic dictated that Jarod would hang around only long enough….

It was at this moment that the voices, heretofore quiet as lazy mice, began their warning chatter. Parker paused, relaxed her mind and concentrated on the messages the voices were trying to convey. The full context of their forewarning caused her to stare in disbelief for a few paralyzing seconds. No sooner had she finished enjoying having wild sex with a renegade pretender then one of her demented family would decide to come around for a visit. Absently, Parker placed her lone coffee cup down and ran into the living room to see her partner dead-to-the-world asleep on her couch without a stitch covering any part of him. Damn, he was looking good but horribly inconvenient.

"Jarod, wake up. Come on, now. Wake up!" Parker pleaded with the sleeping pretender. It did cross her mind that this display of complete faith on his part indicated a level of trust she never thought they would achieve. The horny part of her mind made note that while she wouldn't violate that trust, nothing said she couldn't enjoy him even more. Smiling roguishly, she grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Finally, Jarod's eyelids fluttered to life.

"Good, get up. I'm about to have company and it'll be messy trying to explain your presence." Parker grabbed her errant bra and hurried into her bedroom without waiting for a response. She neatened his side of the bed and gathered his clothing together to hand to him when she realized that he wasn't beside her.

"Jarod? Jarod? Tell me you didn't go back to sleep!"

Jarod was still lying on the couch yawing sleepily and unconcerned. This caused Parker to stare at him incredulously. "Would you please get up and get out of here?! Jarod I'm serious, Lyle is on the way over as we speak."

"Really? Did someone call you?" he yawned again.

"No. It was the voices, now get going…ummm" she raised her eyebrows admiringly as he stood up.

Jarod glanced over at the sudden cessation of her urgent rambling for him to disappear. Her expression made him smile sleepily as he walked slowly towards Parker. That was when the doorbell rang like a shot in the quiet room. Jarod came fully awake and looked at Parker.

"Any room in that closet of yours?" he whispered to her.

"Make room, we're out of time."

Jarod opened the closet, shoved some of the carefully placed clothing aside and found a pile of boxes to sit on. As he ducked to take his place, Parker shoved him inside along with his clothing and then as an afterthought, slapped his bare backside. He looked at her surprised as she hurriedly closed the door.

Re-belting her robe securely, Parker looked through the peephole and saw that the voices were in fact, correct. There on her doorstep stood Lyle with 2 of the sweepers she provided him.

"What do you want?" she asked through the door with a measured amount of sarcastic irritation.

"Parker, open up. I need to have a word with you," Lyle replied in his usual tone, but even through the peephole, the twisted twin looked haggard, almost _haunted_.

Parker glanced behind her to make sure nothing incriminating was hanging out and then opened the door to her violent sibling. Lyle practically bowled her over to get inside. Parker watched him stalk into the living room with raised eyebrows. Then looking back outside, she noticed her sweepers standing there with a question in their eyes.

"Wait right here," she said quietly. Turning to Lyle she stared at him balefully as she closed the door.

"Something weird is going on, weirder than usual, even for the Centre."

"'Something weird'? That's the best you could come up with? Lyle it's Sunday. I was pulled off my first long weekend in over a year to kill a man who infiltrated the Centre and then accused of not doing my job when it was my people who rooted him out. I deserve some down time. You want to play games, lets keep those fun times restricted to working hours, okay?"

Lyle stared at his sister for several long seconds before speaking again. "I know how you feel about me. Despite all my efforts over the years to change your mind, you seemed determined to hate me. I don't share the sentiment and damn it I need your help!" he replied looking genuinely desperate.

Parker looked at her twin with scathing incredulity as she slowly stepped around the couch to sit down. "I suppose all your efforts to kill me were just misconstrued gestures of your true warmth and regard for me? Oh, I get it. You just wanted to blow me up for my own good. Damn, you're pathetic."

"That was during a time of personal crisis. I was still having a hard time accepting that I had a family—a real family," Lyle replied defensively. _She_ had warned him of this. Also, on instructions from the voice, Lyle carefully kept any lecherous thoughts or expressions from his mind and face. All that showed was his truly desperate need to understand what was happening to him.

"Your fidelity is about as reliable as a two-bit street hustler asking to be trusted. Get to the point, why are you here?"

"All right, straight-up. The headaches. I keep getting these brain-splintering migraines. I never had any problem with migraines before and now this. It feels like my brain is being assaulted with a medieval mace and nothing helps—over the counter, under the counter, prescription, nothing. Well, that's not true. Violence helps and, and something else. You see, _She_ says that you would understand. That you'll find out why this is happening. She's never wrong. Never was before, I don't see why she would start now. That's why I came. I had to or she would keep hounding me."

"Who are you talking about? What are you talking about? If you have a headache, take an aspirin," Parker replied in confusion. The second she finished speaking, it was as if the flood gates opened up. He was talking about the same affliction that plagued her, the pain that Jarod's hugs relieved her from. The memory of the way Ethan referred to their mother's voice in his mind was very similar to the way Lyle was rambling. Still it didn't make any sense. Lyle never before showed any signs of sharing the gift she and Ethan had. Why now? And what did the headaches have to do with it?

"I can see it in your eyes. You know what I'm talking about," Lyle whispered with hope in his voice. "Tell me, what's happening? You're right. I haven't been the best of brothers. Help me and I swear that's all in the past. You have no reason to believe me but I'm being sincere here. Please, I'm begging you, just tell me what's going on."

Keeping her voice equally low, Parker replied. "Have you ever blacked out while you were in your office? Nothing dramatic but suddenly woke up and realized that you were missing 20 or 30 minutes out of your life? The kicker is you don't recall falling asleep?"

"You too? But you don't seem to have the headaches. Why am I having them and you're not? Is this some kind of bug going around or is Cox up to some new tricks?"

"You didn't respond to that memo about having a physical did you?" she asked disbelievingly. Anything medical that the Centre wanted to do to her was something Parker had learned to avoid with a passion.

"Hell, no. I went through enough of that garbage when I was a kid. And look where it got me."

"We'll let that pass. When did you start experiencing the headaches?" Parker asked trying to dodge Lyle's question about her headaches.

"A couple weeks ago. Wait, do something for me," he asked excitedly with desperate hope. "I know this is a strange request, but I'm begging you, please."

"What?" Parker asked with heightened suspicion. The sweepers waiting outside now seemed miles away.

"Okay, I'm trusting you here," Lyle said taking a deep breath. The voice said that he could—urged him to ask; now he was hoping that the voice was still batting a thousand. "Run your fingers through my hair. No. Not like a lover but like…like _she_ would've done. Come on, just humor me. I won't touch you."

Parker stared at her twin like he had lost his mind. He had never met their mother, so how would he know the way she would do anything? A soft murmur in the back of her mind, responded softly, encouragingly. Still, Parker didn't move, just stared at Lyle warily.

The psycho went down on one knee in front of her and waited with baited breath. The voice had just commanded him to be quiet and calm. Then tentatively, much to Lyle's surprise, Parker reached out and imitating her mother, she lightly ran her fingers through Lyle's hair, gently combing it back from his face.

The effect was immediate. The shroud of pain lifted, giving him relief on an unprecedented level. Lyle had to grab hold of the couch cushions to steady himself. Once again the voice had proven she spoke only the truth. As he had when he was a child, Lyle handed over to that inner voice, the last vestiges of his trust and confidence.

"Are you alright?" Parker asked uncertainly. Her demented twin had hung his head and was breathing heavily as though he had sprinted the last 100 yards of a marathon.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Tell me, who is _She_?"

"You know who I'm talking about. Saying it out loud would make me sound like a nut case."

"News flash, Hannibal, you _are_ a nut case. But I want to hear it out loud, in the open."

Lyle had risen from his knee and was straightening his tie and jacket. An odd mixture of confidence and wariness filled his mind once the pain had abated to the distant background.

"Crazy like a fox. Had you going, didn't I?" Lyle replied with a sardonic grin.

"More like mad like a hatter. So tell me, who are your hearing in that maniac head of yours?"

"No one, that was just a ploy to see if I could get you to do what I wanted. Sad to say, but you're very predictable. One veiled reference to our mother and you'll do just about anything."

Parker's eyes narrowed as she considered her twin's changed behavior. The headache, agony and desperation were real. He was tying to cover things up so he wouldn't appear to be weak. She wasn't buying it.

"On the contrary, nice ploy to tick me off. You're quite the actor but you weren't acting just now. But just to keep the scales balanced between us—don't expect me to ever do that again. If I'm right, it'll be what—two or three days before you're back here on your knees again? You've used all your tokens and there's no more time left on your game. Take a hike," Parker practically growled.

"Wait," Lyle replied, his resurgent arrogance was quickly fading. When Parker stalked resolutely towards the door he spoke more forcefully. "Alright! There was a time when I used to hear her, everyday. Teaching me, comforting, restraining, it got so that I couldn't do anything without her weighing in on it. One day, Raines gave me a shot of something—I don't know what and I never told him about the voice but it was finally silenced. I found I was free to do whatever I wanted. The following week, I faked my death."

"And killed your best friend, so you could frame your foster father for your murder. Look, I have no idea what's going on but I'm going to find out. And if this has anything to do with that old gargoyle trying to make himself look good for the Tower, I'll skin him alive and show him what a lousy suit he makes."

"Sounds good to me, keep me in the loop? I'll do whatever it takes. If anyone thinks they can throw us off our game by handing out headaches, I want my share of the retribution and I'll make sure they regret every second; flaying will be the least of their worries—think Marquis de Sade in terms of days, maybe weeks."

"Alright, but I meant it. That was the last time for me. Find yourself a friendly barber to get rid of your headaches."

"Is that what you do? Go to a different person every time they start up again?"

"What I do is my business and I suggest you don't let anyone else in on this little, uhh, oddity of yours. You have plenty, God knows, but I would suggest keeping quiet about this particular one."

Parker maintained her poker face until the door closed on Lyle. She stood leaning against the front door, deep in thought and reveling in her newly acquired hyper-awareness. She hadn't forgotten about Jarod in the closet and wondered how much he could've heard. She hoped not much. The last thing she needed was for Jarod to start mothering her. Besides, Lyle was right for once. This was weird. Why were both of them showing signs of the same malady but with different methods of relieving the pain? How many other people were like them—experiencing symptoms but not bothering to tell anyone? Most likely this had something to do with Raines. He was the only person she knew who could have ten irons in the fire at once and not one of them be worth a damn. As with most things, Parker knew that she could ignore the headaches and their pain for so long before having to do some research. It couldn't wait any longer but this time she wouldn't bring Broots or Sydney in on this. The last thing she needed was for Broots to be falling all over himself trying to help her and putting both of them in jeopardy with his painfully, sweet ineptitude. Sydney looked like he had his hands full with his new expanded schedule. This was going to be a solo mission.

A sharp noise drew her attention. The sight of him made her whole face light up and a small laugh erupted voluntarily. Jarod was emerging from the closet, still naked and looking a bit peevish at being left in there so long. As the wordless thought formed in her mind of what she wanted to do to change his expression, she paused.

Jarod looked over at Parker as he straightened up from his cramped position. He was about to say something to her when he saw the blank expression on her face. Blank wasn't a good word for it, far away was more accurate. Parker looked as if her thoughts had transported her a million miles away to a place he hoped someday she would share with him. In getting to know her better, Jarod realized how little he really knew. Sure, her life at the Centre, her personal relationships—not many, the office politics and her much sought-after loyalty, he had discovered years ago. Her inner life, he knew nothing about.

Parker was a million miles away—within the confines of her own mind. When she smiled at Jarod, she knew her so-called alter-ego had taken over again. She had shifted to her old self for the short time Lyle was there and then reverted back to her "other" self seamlessly. A door had been forced opened and the fractured self that often stared back at her in the mirror had somehow found a way to knit itself back together. The process wasn't complete but it was getting there. It was in that moment that she realized her headaches were more than physical—they were emotional as well. None of this could've been achieved without some pain. For the first time in years, since before her mother had died—she recalled with a start, Parker was once again whole. The trauma of seeing Daddy slap Momma so hard, she fell was seared into her brain. It was her father who had assaulted Momma and not Raines. That scumbag was actually trying to help Catherine to her feet and used his body to shield her from her any further attack. His words to Daddy she thought she would never forget: "It's over! Get that through your brain. She's made her choice for both of them but you can keep the whelp if that makes you happy—she's completely useless anyway." This suppressed memory explained a lot—why her mother trusted Raines and why Parker was so disdainful of him. Then like a sling-shot retracting, Parker snapped back to the present. Blinking confusedly, she looked at her lover.

"Hello. You're back. Where did you go just now?"

"Go? What do you mean?" she asked trying to gain her bearings.

"You had the look of reliving a memory but I can't tell if it was good or bad."

Finding solid ground in his words, Parker chuckled ruefully. "What real good is there in my past? Just a different closet filled with broken bits and pieces: dreams, promises, hopes and harsh realities."

"Wow, do you mind explaining all that?" Jarod asked in a surprised voice. He hadn't expected her answer to be so heavy.

"No, not really. As for Lyle, he wants my help with some office politics. He tried the old 'don't hate because I'm a maniac' routine."

"He came all this way for that?" he asked incredulously. Jarod had strained hard to hear what was being said but their voices were pitched in such a way to thwart him—Jarod felt sure that Parker had done it on purpose.

"Yup. He has plenty of time to waste. He got greedy and thought he should waste some of mine as well."

"I see. I still would like to hear about that horrible closet of yours," he tried with a smile.

Parker returned the smile. "I like what just stepped out of my hallway closet just fine. Here, let me show you just how well I really do like it." She removed her robe and thoroughly distracted him from asking any more questions.


	24. News

Author's note: I apologize for the extremely long time between posts. I am still working diligently on this story and until I finally get it posted, I believe it will continue to haunt me. As for the reviews/comments about the previous chapter, I have always strove to stay within the confines of the Pretender canon. Nothing from the previous chapter strays from that (IMHO) and some of the characters, goofy as they were in the televised series, leave a lot of room for interpretation and improvisation. Thanks for reading.

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 24 - Can we talk?)**

_**Trader's Inn  
Blue Cove, DE **_

Jarod walked into the Inn with a preoccupied mind. Not only was his mission seriously compromised but he knew, and the hairs on the back of his neck confirmed, that there was something very strange going on. Now the members of his team seemed unable to meet his gaze. Geoff self-consciously looked away, Barney had a studiously, unfocused but blank look on his face, Jonas seemed unusually glued to his computer monitor and Modesty, the only exception, stared at him thoughtfully. Jarod said nothing as he looked at each person in their turn. The Centre was an important asset. And though he and his team had been together for a short while, they had accomplished some pretty fantastic things together. This op, though inherently tricky, wasn't really all that difficult. So how had they wound up in this mess?

What bothered him even more was the response he had received from Mission headquarters—it was a resounding "NO". There wouldn't be any contact between the two teams and though they knew about each other, an information firewall had been set up to keep the two separate. The response rocked Jarod as he thought through what this meant for the mission, his team and himself. The agency was too careful, too methodical to allow concurrent missions to run in one place without allowing the players to communicate with each other if the need arose. What if he or his team, in an effort to protect themselves; hurt or killed a member of the other team? The situation was rife with the possibility of this becoming a boondoggle of enormous proportions. Yet the message from headquarters wasn't relayed with a follow-up question—can you continue on? The only reason there could be for that was almost unpalatable. Headquarters already knew their situation and had given their approval for the mission to continue but they had said nothing to Jarod, the team leader, which meant he had a mole. One of his team members was receiving orders while providing updates—spying in effect. Jarod, an old hand at recognizing a test when he saw one, knew this was just that: a test of his skills and ability to complete the mission without anyone getting mortally wounded or killed. He frowned angrily at the prospect. The time for games and his tolerance for them was long past over. If the agency wouldn't help, at least in this situation, Jarod had in place someone who could at the very least provide him with some much needed information. Luckily he had already reached out and was waiting eagerly for an answer.

"Has either of you been able to identify the embedded team? Anything that seemed out of place or just slightly off?"

Both Modesty and Geoff frowned as they thought through all the strange characters employed by the Centre. "Jarod, just about everyone at the Centre is slightly off. It's the normals that stick out," Geoff said with a slight shake of the head.

"Really? Is that the reason you blend in so well?" Barney replied with a grin. Geoff responded with a good-natured laugh.

"Are you thinking they could possibly help?" Modesty asked while smiling at Barney's joke.

"I'm not sure, but I want to see if they would be willing to do so without blowing their cover. Since Plan A is no longer viable, I want to keep my options open. At the very least, if I know who they are then we can avoid involving them inadvertently."

"You want me to draft a request to Mission Headquarters for contact instructions?" Jonas asked.

Jarod looked over at him and replied, "No. We're on our own with this one. I need you two," indicating both Geoff and Modesty, "to keep your eyes and ears open. I doubt the other team will break cover but you never know. I'll put plan B into motion and let things play out as they are."

"I managed to get my hands on several of those furry toys that keep popping up around the Centre. There's nothing like persistent social engineering to get around most roadblocks. Still, it took some doing, so I hope we can still use them. What exactly is plan B?" Geoff asked curiously.

"I prefer to test the waters first, so to speak. It's a risky move and if it blows up in my face, then I'll be the only one in danger."

"Everything that was a part of Plan A is a go—except me. I've some ideas about a workaround if you're interested but according to your original plan our window of opportunity is closing fast. When do you plan on making your move?" Geoff replied.

"You're right. Everything is in place and we should wrap this up quickly before all our plans find an excuse to unravel. There's no reason to stick around longer than necessary. I'll set things in motion tonight. All precautions will be taken, I'll wear the bug. Regardless, Barney, Jonas, start packing. Keep only the bare essentials but be ready to pack that up as well."

"Are you going tell us _anything_ about Plan B?" Modesty asked mildly surprised by Jarod's cagey attitude.

"All I will say is that it's only a slight modification of plan A. If I tell you anything further, you'd try to stop me. I'll be wearing the jacket with the bug on it, so it'll be easy to track my movements."

"Does this have anything to do with Miss Parker?" Jonas asked.

"Yes, but that's as far as I'm willing to say right now. I'm leaving to get things set up. The rest of you, continue on as planned unless you hear otherwise from me. Tomorrow morning we'll know one way or the other if my idea will work. If not, then it's on to Plan C."

"You have a _Plan C_?" Barney asked with a pleasantly surprised smile.

"I never go into a situation as volatile as this without a Plan C and since this is the Centre, Plan D is sketchy but it involves running like there's no tomorrow," Jarod replied with an answering grin.

_**The Centre  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Sydney sat back in his chair and contemplated his unexpected visitor. Their discussion involved a conspiracy so bold that it practically took the elderly man's breath away. What prompted this conversation was an unexpected move by the Tower. The visitor insisted that while this development was unexpected, it helped them immensely. Sydney didn't necessarily agree.

"What they've done is create a volatile situation. There are those within the Centre, especially in the Tower who strenuously disagree with Tower's decision. I'm not sure if it will be left to stand unchallenged."

"I'm still a newbie to the inner workings of this place, doctor. Explain to me why anyone would challenge their decision and who would even try?"

"The Tower has set an unusual precedent. What's happened today has been done before but under extremely different circumstances and with approvals. Frankly I'm still shocked that they're trying. This could endanger everything—all our plans." At the visitor's irritated expression, Sydney continued, "At the Tower level, there hasn't been any significant changes since the death of Catherine Parker, about 30 years ago. Then, when they instituted their changes, the Triumvirate had given its support and backing. That hasn't happened here; a minor change, no problem but something on this level—unbelievable. I'm afraid if the Chairman feels threatened, things could get extremely ugly. Non-sanctioned changes have been known to make those involved disappear."

"You're saying that the challengers would resort to _murder_? And the Chairman would sanction it if it suited him?"

"Yes. Do you have any idea why the Tower is doing this?"

"I have my own ideas and to answer that look on your face, no, I didn't have anything to do with this situation. I'm as surprised as you are. But given your explanation, I'll make sure precautions are taken. Not to worry too much, doctor. No one will lay a hand on our asset, you have my word."

"Excuse me if I don't seem relieved by your assurances. I've heard such declarations before and have been seriously disappointed. Still I think measures must be taken to advise…"

The visitor interrupted by raising his voice over Sydney's. "Too early doctor. It's too early to advise the asset of anything. Precautions will be taken and I'll be monitoring the Chairman very closely to make sure that if he does step out of line he'll be squashed like the bug he is. All our plans go forward, no changes. Have a good day doctor." The visitor rose from his seat during the latter part of his response and quietly slipped out of the door. Another attendee, hiding quietly in the shadows of the ventilation ducts listened carefully to their conversation—just as he had at all their meetings inside the Centre. None of the half references were lost on him. He understood exactly who they were speaking of and what it was they wanted. It sadden him to think of the lengths they would go to get what they wanted from yet another of his old friends.

Sydney wondered about Chairman Raines and what he would think about this little conversation if he heard it. Reflexively, the psychiatrist looked up at the DSA camera and saw that it had been deactivated.

_**Parker Residence  
Blue Cove, DE**_

From the outside, the house seemed quiet and empty. This was unfortunate because she was in a very frisky mood. When she entered however, she noticed there was a light on in the kitchen. Parker never left the lights on at her house. It was a habit from her days of chasing a wily pretender. She never knew when she would be called away to chase down a lead in another town, state or even another country. Frowning slightly, Parker thought wryly that her life seemed to be dominated by habits. It was something she would've liked to change but didn't have time to concentrate on it—like most things, personal. Controlling her irritation, she quietly put her things down and silently pulled the 9mm free from its holster at her back. If this was Lyle, she would just save herself some time and shoot him, like her father had originally asked her to do.

She skulked silently towards the kitchen when a familiar tingle in her mind stopped her in her tracks and informed her of the identity of her intruder before she reached the kitchen. A brilliant smile lit Parker's features as she abruptly stopped. Tip toeing back to where she set her things down, she pulled something free from the tangle, replaced her weapon in the holster she carefully stowed in the linen closet and walked confidently into the kitchen.

Jarod looked up to find Parker standing in the doorway. Her smile came straight from their childhood—sweet and uncomplicated. She liked him and didn't bother trying to hide it.

Before she could say anything, he quickly said, "I have a little surprise for you."

"Really? What?"

"Dinner in, only this time picnic style," he replied holding out his arm towards the backyard.

"It's kinda chilly outside…"she hesitated, suddenly uncertain. He must have heard about what happened at the Centre already, ruining her surprise.

"I lit the fire pit you have out there. It's very effective for staving off the chill." Jarod then looked at what she was holding. It appeared to be a bottle of wine. "What do you have there?"

"Oh, I brought this home hoping you would stop by and join me," she said with her smile retuning.

"Are you celebrating something?"

"Sort of, at least it's an excuse to celebrate. With all this, I'm surprised you're even asking."

"Really? What are you celebrating?"

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard what? I've been out shopping and laying this out for the two of us."

"If you haven't heard, then why did you go to all the trouble with this?"

"There are some things we need to discuss. I'm hoping an intimate dinner will be a good way to ease into it. What's happened? Why are _you_ celebrating?" he asked with a smile, trying to cover the tension that remained with him since his earlier decision.

Parker had walked to the back door and was looking out at the tasteful arrangement of food laid out on the patio table. She could practically hear the tension in Jarod's voice and wondered what he wanted to talk about. Turning gracefully to look at him, Parker asked in a soft voice, "Are you leaving?"

"No, my business isn't finished yet. Let's go outside and hear your news first."

Parker didn't move as Jarod approached and held the back door open for her to precede him. She stared hard at him and without warning or overture; she kissed him hard on the mouth, enjoying his surprise and the softening of his lips to hers as he returned the kiss. Parker took advantage of this and pleasurably deepened the kiss.

When they finally separated, Jarod looked at her with mild surprise in his eyes wondering about this display of passion. He held her close, lightly kissing and nuzzling her but remained speechless for a few seconds before Parker repeated the kiss, this time wrapping one hand around his neck and the other, holding the bottle, around his waist.

"Hummm, now you have to tell me what happened," he replied when she gave him the chance. Jarod was torn between stepping away from her and keeping to his agenda or pulling her closer and throwing all cares aside for an hour or so. Reluctantly, he moved away from temptation and her embrace.

"I had a different idea about what we should do tonight. How about we open this bottle of champagne, strip and you can have the first sip on me?" she replied with a grin.

Jarod laughed remembering he told her about a fantasy he once had about her, involving champagne and drinking it from the hollow of her navel. At the beach house they acted out his fantasy and in the end, wound up wasting the champagne. He had watched fascinated as Parker poured small droplets from her glass, along the length of her torso and then poured a larger portion into her navel. He had worked his way down, following the trail of droplets until he got to her navel. After taking in his final sip, Jarod found he was so turned on that tasting her became more of a priority than drinking the expensive beverage. Clearing his throat and once again tearing his mind away from the temptation he replied, "Let's save that for later. I really need to speak to you. I've been putting this off for too long as it is."

Parker lowered her eyes in her disappointment but said nothing further. At her reaction, Jarod softly said, "I wouldn't insist if it weren't important but first tell me about your news. Why are we celebrating?"

"It can wait."

"Please. I want to know. Besides, once you hear what I have to say, you may wind up tossing me out on my ear."

Parker frowned and walked out onto the patio. Quickly turning to look at him, Jarod found her smile, was strangely somber.

"I've been named Managing Director of Tower operations, which makes me chief liaison between the will of the Tower and the Chairman. My Tower colleagues have been so impressed with my performance that they decided it was time to threaten my life with a promotion."

"Managing Director. Doesn't this also mean you're in charge of all the other directors? That is impressive. But why are you celebrating? With that sort of promotion, you'll constantly be at the Centre. And correct me if I'm wrong but doesn't that also place you just one step away from the Chairmanship? Isn't Managing Director pretty much on a par with Vice-President? It'll make it difficult for us to see each other. I guess this promotion is the reason someone is watching your house. The wolves are already circling."

"Really? I was too preoccupied to notice. I'll have Remy cancel that immediately. I'm celebrating because as a high-level Tower executive, I'm free to do pretty much whatever I want. Raines now answers to me. He steps out of line, then as Managing Director, I can call him in on the carpet. Actually, the celebration part was a thin pretext to get you into bed."

Jarod nodded in agreement to the first part of her explanation as he began to think furiously. The second part was drowned out by his internal speculation. This promotion put a slightly different spin on his theory of what was happening at the Centre. It didn't make sense until he realized that her promotion was probably a surprise to everyone.

"What if Raines opposes the promotion? He could always complain to the Triumvirate and try to have it overturned."

Parker laughed sexily and approached Jarod, wrapping her arms around his waist she replied, "He already has. The Tower is sick and tired of being dictated to by the Triumvirate. After my father's death, the Triumvirate was too busy licking its own wounds to pay much attention to the Centre. That neglect forced the Tower to become just a bit more independent. The few members who supported my father, resigned before Raines forced them out. But they left their mark on the remaining members. The new directors were appointed by the surviving members who could read the writing on the wall. They agreed to admit Lyle if I was a part of the package—the old ghoul agreed. Raines tried to put in the names of a few other people but without the Triumvirate enforcing their will, those names were ignored. It's no surprise that his request and their opposition were summarily dismissed. The directors showed me a draft of their response: '_When the Triumvirate is able to replace the money, time and resources that has been demanded from the Centre for numerous failed projects that were initially rejected by this body and now are incapable of paying for themselves; then their wishes will be given full consideration. Until the Centre is back in the financial realm to which it has become accustomed, the Tower's primary focus will be recouping the imposed losses and maintaining the clientele necessary to the rebuilding of the Centre's fiscal prowess._'

"They can send out assassins to change your mind. A few executives go missing, and the Centre can't officially complain about it. It would jeopardize your non-interference contract."

"True, but say what you want about them, the Tower isn't stupid. They hired the Security Director over world-wide operations. Just about every sweeper employed by the Centre is under my direct employ. My promotion doesn't change that. I've implemented some security upgrades, Broots has been busy and new protocols are in place to thwart whatever the Triumvirate may try. I also have some other irons in the fire, some they know about and others they don't. If the Triumvirate tries to make a move; I'll be ready for them."

"Don't get too confident. The Triumvirate depends on their victims underestimating them," Jarod said with grim certainty.

"I've seen a few of those victims go down. My mother was one of them. I'll be careful but don't think for a minute that it will interfere with us. The food can wait, how about that champagne?"


	25. Champagne

Author's note: Thanks to all those still interested and reading my story!

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 25 - Can we talk, now??)  
**

_**Trader's Inn  
Blue Cove, DE **_

The team was gathered together around the communications equipment. When Parker finally announced her news there was a general intake of breath. Her promotion came as a surprise to everyone but Geoff.

"I wonder if this promotion will affect his Plan B? Maybe we don't have to do anything to get her out of the way, she'll be too busy dealing with office politics to be concerned with what we're doing." Barney mused aloud.

"That came out of left field but it's not surprising. Scuttlebut had it that she would keep her current position and be made director of Worldwide Marketing. Managing Director isn't that much of a leap. Well, finally I'll get to hear the Master-of-Quick-Thinking at work," Geoff stated with a happily expectant smile.

_**Parker's residence  
Blue Cove, DE**_

"When we try out that champagne, I don't want any distractions and what I have to tell you is a big distraction. Hear me out."

Parker frowned at his statement but remained silent. She didn't expect him to but she couldn't help but feel a little let down by his lack of enthusiasm at her promotion. A little support, at least emotional support would've been highly appreciated. Parker caught herself just then. Here she was expecting things out of Jarod as if their relationship was normal—by any stretch of the imagination, it wasn't. She wanted to shut out the emotional neediness in her expectations but for some unknown reason, they kept creeping out when she least expected.

Jarod noted her thoughtful silence and then plunged into the deep end. "A telephone call is what brought me back to the Centre." With that preface, Jarod began to truthfully tell her about his mission, its goal and purpose. Still, he left out many of the details that sketched the daily updates uncovered by his team. Jarod instead gave her a thumbnail sketch of Thackery's experimentation. For brevity sake, he left out all the symptoms that were key identifying markers of the current victims, instead he opted for eliciting both her sympathies and outrage by explaining some of the more horrific side-effects seen in the African patients. He ended with the numerous federal indictments handed down for the doctor. The only thing he felt necessary to conceal was his infiltration team—how many they were or who they were. He trusted Parker's instincts but he wanted his people to continue on without interruption or interference. Jarod ended his story readily admitting that there were some operational details he wouldn't go into but wisely left it there while staring intently at his listener. When he was done, Parker sat silently. Her expression was impassively thoughtful, her dinner forgotten and left to grow cold. This would be the time, he reasoned when the fireworks of her temper would probably reveal themselves.

"So this Thackery person is your target? My assistant is taking care of his security; I haven't had any direct contact with him. From what I've been told, he's a Triumvirate asset that was brought in specifically to work on some kind of top secret medical research. Another one of those demands they've been making lately. Raines knows that his being here puts the Centre in a very precarious situation. Since you mentioned our non-interference pact with the government then it's safe to say they already know about Thackery's return. Where exactly do you come in?"

"I was sent here by a covert branch of the government to find a way of extricating the doctor from the Centre, preferably without your knowledge."

"Is this a pretend? Do they know about you?" she asked incredulously. It was one of the main reasons for the Centre's obsession, the fear of any disclosure on Jarod's part, of what had happened to him in the years of his imprisonment that spurred the hunt for him—despite his contamination by the outside world.

His expression asked, 'Are you nuts?' mirroring her disbelief, while he answered neutrally, "I work for them—legitimately."

"You make it sound personal. What the hell do they care if I know?"

"They don't want you to align against them. As the security director and now, the managing director for the Tower, they don't want to run the risk of you pulling the plug on any of the projects the Centre is handling for them. Plus they're afraid of jeopardizing their position with the Centre and are eager to avoid any retaliation, blackmail or worse. Apparently they still see the Centre as a valuable resource."

"So they want to take a look under the sheets and even manipulate the action to benefit themselves. All the while making sure the Centre keeps focused on their interests while violating our privacy. Cute. Is that the reason you've kept this from me? And what's your role in all this—to expose the whole dirty business or are you the one doing the peeking?"

_**Trader's Inn**_

"Oh geez! Why the hell did he tell her everything? Has he lost his mind?" Jonas asked in dismay.

Geoff looked equally grim and shocked. "He told her _almost_ everything. So far he hasn't said a word about us. I'm wondering what he hopes to gain from this."

"I thought I'd heard and seen everything. How could a simple seduction angle get this twisted? I guess we'll have to see where infatuation ends and duty begins. So far he hasn't been wrong about her, so all we can do is keep the faith," Barney stated quietly.

"Jarod has a reason for doing this. Don't forget, this is supposedly Plan B, though I've got to admit, I would've definitely tried to talk him out of this if I knew," Modesty replied with grim certainty.

_**Parker's residence**_

Jarod averted his gaze from hers and stared out at the neatly trimmed grass and garden. The heavy stone which represented his fear of her rejection started weighing down the pit of his stomach.

"My goal was to keep you distracted and as far away from my core target as possible. Believe me when I say that what's happened between us caught me off guard. From what you said after we returned from Scotland, I thought you would just try to shoot me and get it over with. I never thought things would've turned out the way they did."

Parker narrowed her eyes at this and stared at her lover. Jarod had just admitted to a serious breach in her trust. She wondered just how insincere he had been and if he was up to admitting that as well. "I've been honest with you. All I was hoping for was sincere companionship and what I get for my trouble is you, playing games."

"I would never play with your heart or hurt you with lies. You know that. This assignment brought us together; I'm hoping that you won't allow it to tear us apart."

"Damn it Jarod! I really wanted this, for once, to have something in my personal life to be genuine. You know—_real_, even if it was only going to last for a few moments. What do I get? Games, stupid, gut- wrenching games designed to make my life just that bit more unbearable. Oh, granted, you didn't lie exactly, you merely failed to give me all the pertinent details of your…um…visit. Why tell me anything at all?" she asked with venomous anger. Without warning her anger turned into hurt-filled disappointment. "You could've kept stringing me along and then simply left without a word. After all, that has been the status quo of our, I suppose, "relationship" would do for want of a better word." She said this so softly that his team had to strain to hear the last few words of her sentence.

When he looked up, his expression wasn't exactly what she was expecting. He looked equal measures of miserable, distressed and hopelessly in love. "Only a lesser person would have tried stringing you along. That was the furthest thing from my mind. Sometimes the best laid plans backfire in the strangest ways. I wasn't expecting you to have changed so much."

"I haven't, Jarod."

"Yes you have, more than you can imagine. What's confusing me is your excitement over this promotion. Why you stay is a mystery."

"I know the promotion is nothing but a Catch-22, no illusions there. The Tower wants to keep me happy after hearing about the dirty trick Raines pulled with the look-a-like. But I was using it for a far more selfish reason—as a means to have something to celebrate with you. I'm no simpleton. I know you're not going to hang around here regardless of what's happened between us. I wouldn't expect it and I'm too old to delude myself with visions of roses and buttercups. But since this was all a shell game, I guess I'm the schmuck left holding the bag." Parker said this as she rose from her seat.

Jarod immediately moved to intercept her. "I meant every word I said at the beach house."

Parker remained silent for several long seconds, agonizing seconds for Jarod. "You played me and you did it very well. I didn't figure on you getting so personal—that's a new wrinkle in your usual repertoire. Now I'm left looking like a lonely, pathetic fool with nothing left in the pantry. Your triumph is complete, nothing like a healthy dose of humiliation to set the record straight between us," she replied with a tremble in her voice and fire in her eyes.

"I thought your previous hostility would continue and you would insist on maintaining the status quo. That was my plan to distract you. When you started to respond to me, I thought you were stringing me along! You were very clear about your feelings the last time we spoke. I honestly didn't expect for us to forge a true relationship. Now, after everything that's happened, I don't want to lose you over this. I never thought I even had an outside chance with you."

"What we had, no, what _I_ imagined we had wasn't going anywhere, Jarod, end of story."

"You weren't imagining anything, except the lousy ending. Write a new one."

"Why? Looking for some more weaknesses?"

Jarod said nothing but looked down with a pained expression, as if she had just slit his wrists. "I never lied to you," he repeated softly. Then in a barely audible voice, modulated so his team couldn't understand his words, he said, "You're not the only lonely person here with nothing more than faded hopes."

"With your looks you could have anyone you want. You were going to have to let me go anyway, Jarod." Parker's tone was exasperated as she turned away. She hated hurting his feelings and his tone of voice and expression told her that he meant every word he said. With an aching heart, Parker wanted nothing more than to find new ways of holding on to him, but she knew to do so would have the same result as it did with Tommy.

He reached out and gently caressed her arm. When she turned he looked directly into her eyes and asked, "Is that what you really want?"

Parker paused and stared back at him, then turning she gave a half chuckle. "Okay, I admit that this little plan of yours hurts like hell. No doubt, once you finished with me and the Centre, I would be left with a mess to clean up and trying to give explanations that I don't have. You never think of the aftermath do you? Why not stay true to form? Why did you bother telling me this?"

"I wanted you to know, to hear it from me. Part of the plan was to inform you of what I had done and setting up for you some plausible deniability once my little scenario was complete. I've seen the way Raines reacts to being thwarted."

"Gee, thanks." Parker said some heat. Jarod's plausible deniability would be interesting to see but she still felt like someone had slipped a shank between her ribs. "So now I know, why are you still hanging around?"

"I also need your help," he answered simply.

"With what!?" she asked suddenly curious. Jarod's revelation should have left her furious, instead she couldn't help but feel oddly elated, like she won something far more precious than a lousy Centre promotion.

"Getting Thackery out of the Centre."

"Oh, now you want me to _help_ you? I thought I was only a pawn in this game of yours."

"You never were. Nothing happened the way it was supposed to happen. The problem I'm facing now is your efficiency. You have the Centre locked up tighter than Raines' oxygen tanks. I can get the doctor out but it will be messy and chances are Raines and company will know it was me and blame you. If you could relax security just enough, then my plan can go forward. I only need about 30 minutes, probably less and I'll have him out and on his way to a long overdue visit with the Feds."

"That's what you want from me? What do I get in return?"

"You want this to be a _quid pro quo_?"

"I'll take what I can get. What I wanted when I came home was my idea of a pleasant evening; terrific sex and getting a great night's sleep."

"You'll get that anyway. Will you help me?"

"Raines is a gasping dung-heap of worthlessly boring schemes and hair raising experiments with all the creativity of Mengale and this Thackery sounds like he's cut from the same cloth. My help depends on what it is you want me to do."

Jarod visibly relaxed and began looking around anxiously. "Where's that champagne?"

Parker couldn't help but grin, her horniness finally got through his thick skull. "It's over there. When do you want to do this? I need details," she demanded. When Jarod looked back at her with a question in his eyes, she replied, "Do you _trust_ me with the details?"

"I trust you with my life."

"Huh, right. No pressure," she said in a soft voice.

Jarod slowly smiled at her disconcertment. "Tomorrow at 10am, a service truck will arrive at the loading docks waiting for a single crate. The crate will have all the right markings and my driver will have all the right paperwork. What I need from you is one sweeper, not Sam, to pick up the crate on Level 7 and take it to the loading docks without it being searched."

"I suppose Thackery will be inside, kicking, screaming and carrying on? No way, too risky."

"What do you propose?"

"Keep him quiet. Better yet drug him if you have to but he has to be gagged. There's no way my people are going to ignore some fool yelling his head off from inside a crate. I don't care whose wheeling it around."

"Gagging him won't be a problem and he'll be bound as well. I'll need to have the crate loaded onto the truck without interference and given free passage away from the Centre."

"Done and done. But in return I want something from you," she replied firmly.

"Tell me," Jarod said with a shakily, apprehensive smile.

"When you do finally leave, make it for keeps. Don't visit, don't write, no telephone calls, emails, presents, Christmas or birthday cards. Turn your back on this place and never look back. It's way overdue for you to cut the umbilical cord on your connection to the Centre and everyone involved with it."

"What about us? How we feel about each other?"

"Regardless of your games, we're at an impasse. We're headed down a road that promises to be nothing more than a cul-de-sac. The time has come for you to ride off into the sunset, buckaroo," Parker replied facing Jarod with her arms crossed and a serious expression.

"There are others that I don't wish to sever all contact with—I don't believe I'll be able to do what you ask."

"You can and you will. I'll explain things to Angelo, but I think he'll already know. Anyone else, you can say farewell to without exciting too much alarm. They should be expecting it by now."

At the resistant look on Jarod's face, Parker continued, "You want my help, then this is the price for it. I know it won't be easy, but it's a long time in coming. Is there anything else you wanted?"

"What would you want then—A pound of flesh? Getting Thackery out was at the top of my list."

"That was all? Geez, Jarod. I thought you'd ask for something more difficult, like the password codes to the Tower wash room," Parker replied with a lascivious smile she knew would grab his attention. She was gratified by the resurgence of hope in his eyes.

"You have to enter a password to get into the restroom?" Jarod asked, finally spotting the large champagne bottle and following her into the house. His mind seized on the fact that she hadn't caught his reference to a _list_. It meant that he had some leeway—a small crevice he could use as a handhold to hang on to something that recently had become very precious to him.

"They have a sauna in there with a masseuse on call 24 hours. The Jacuzzi can fit at least 20 and the gym is actually decent. Much better than the one offered to the regular hierarchy." Parker turned and saw that Jarod was shedding his jacket and draping over the back of a kitchen chair while hanging on tightly to the champagne bottle and following her out of the kitchen.

"Here, give me that," said she grabbing the champagne and putting it on a coffee table. "Your fantasy is on hold; I'm tired, cranky and all out of patience. Plenty of the basics is what I need right now."

Jarod grinned appreciatively as he followed Parker into the bedroom.


	26. What you know and don't know

**Author's note:** Yeah, I'm still writing this and have been making good progress too. I hope those still reading it are enjoying this story.

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 26**…**the principal)**

**The Centre - Thackery's Quarters  
Blue Cove, DE**

It started out like any other day, mundanely sunny with a sharp chill in the air that kept most people huddled in their warm winter clothing. Waking much earlier than usual, Thackery looked out at the brilliant day and sneezed miserably, not bothering any longer to cover his mouth. He frowned thoughtfully at the sight of his sneeze covering the lower half of the window. Despite its looks, the Centre managed to maintain a comfortable 72 degrees (22°C) inside. Therefore, his incessant sneezing didn't originate from a nasty cold but his allergies had returned with a vengeance. As this thought passed through his mind, the heating quietly came on, softly pumping warm air throughout his fashionably luxurious rooms. Irritation settled in his face as Thackery looked over at the wall vent close to the ceiling and noticed an unwelcome poof of dust wafting in lazily along with the warmed air. Lately, everything seemed leveraged against him. First the Parker woman decides to take a vacation, thus completely missing out on the last injection, then her so-called spotter, whom the Chairman assured him was a man capable of getting close to the woman, could've lived in Istanbul for all the attention she gave him—turns up dead, most likely at his target's own hand and now this. At least there was one thing he had absolute and undisputed control over—his invention. Thackery's eyes shifted over to the bookcase for a moment before making the call.

Fifteen minutes later a maintenance man appeared at his personal quarters looking every bit as irritated as Thackery. This was the third time he had been called to these rooms. First the doctor insisted that his accommodations be thoroughly cleaned—despite the fact that they already had been the day before. Once this was done, the doctor then had the audacity to pull on a white glove and run his hand over every surface. All he found was an imaginary misting of dust but looked haughtily justified as though this was proof of the worker's negligence. Now the creep was complaining about the air vents, insisting that they be vacuumed as well. The maintenance man said nothing but paused at the sight of a pillow case jammed into the louvered slats of one of the vents. He placed a dust mask on his face-for show and then whipped off the pillow case, walked back out to the hallway and retrieved his vacuum. Thackery continued droning on about how he was going to complain about this serious lack of hygiene and thoroughness, when the maintenance man, extremely angry at the condescending attitude he was being subjected to, whirled around and turned on the loud machine to drown out the noisy complaints. Hardly caring what he was doing, and stubbornly refusing to remove the louvered covers, the janitor placed the suction attachment against both of the large grates and slowly ran the vacuum hose over each, taking in any dust particles that dared to come into the great man's rooms. Within one of these vents, the small device that had delivered the offending "dust" was being pulled towards the opening. The insistent suction caused the device to fall over onto its side with a small, metallic clink. The sound wasn't lost on the maintenance man who paused for a few seconds. At the sound of Thackery's on-going complaints, the janitor ignored the noise and sparing Thackery a quick, disparaging glance, packed up and left. There had been too many times when he was called in to remove all trace of whatever experiment or worse that had been left behind. His discretion was so noted that most cleaners requested him by name—a fact that made him feel quite lucky and proud. The device wasn't so lucky, the movement and its fall deactivated the trigger mechanism.

_**Parker's residence****  
Blue Cove, DE  
**_

Early in the morning the team waited to see if there would be anything of interest in Jarod's morning conversation with Parker. After some initial smirking at the way Jarod treated Miss Parker, everyone listened to the two voice their opinions about how the extrication of Thackery should be handled. Without having to mention them, Jarod said he would continue with as much of his original strategy that hadn't been crippled by the recent lockdown and his contingency plan would be good enough to take up the slack. Parker assured him that security video surveillance would be relaxed or redirected for about 30 minutes around the olive groves. Jarod added that he would have his "helper" as he put it, keep tabs on the situation and step in only if things were on the verge of spinning completely out of control. Out of curiosity, Modesty listened further after Geoff and Jonas nodded their agreement and headed off to breakfast. Parker repeated that she couldn't afford for anyone to be aware that it was Thackery in the crate. If the "helper" was discovered then the game would be up and anyone so foolish as to expose themselves would be immediately seized for questioning. Parker firmly declared that there would be little she could do, except protect them from torture. With a smile in her voice Parker continued, "I'm sure the government would like to have its property back…for a price."

"Parker, don't," Jarod warned seriously.

"You won't let me have just a little fun?"

Barney switched off the monitor, not wanting to hear Jarod's answer to Parker's coquettish inquiry. Shaking his head slightly, the engineer replied, "Geez, he's in deep with her; maybe a little too deep."

"Yes, I wonder how he's going to handle their separation. I doubt it'll be a long one in any case. What confuses me is the extent to which he finds her attractive. Sure, her features are pleasant enough but she's the Security Director of a major corporation that gives the word 'shady' a far uglier nuance. The things she's had to have seen, done or implemented would probably make his hair curl and skin crawl—so what is it? We've been on ops before where he was the one to go undercover in situations involving some very beautiful women, but I've never noticed any personal interest on his part that didn't involve the mission and especially none that came anywhere close as this to touching his heart. I was starting to think that he and Geoff were 'cut from the same cloth', so to speak. What's so different here?"

"Like you once said, Jarod takes being reserved to all new levels. He's already admitted to knowing this woman before the op began. If you want a definitive answer to that question, the best way is to ask him outright. We've all had our share of personal involvements on assignments. We're just getting a view of Jarod's particular Achilles heel. Had to happen sometime," Barney stated with quiet amusement.

Modesty answered in an equally quiet voice, "True. I only wish I had more time to observe her. The closest I got, she was on the brink of tossing me out of the Centre. I was too distracted to even bother gathering a good impression of her."

"Based on what I'm hearing and getting a brief glimpse of her, she has a long list of attributes—all of which turn out to be distracting, depending on your point of view of course."

Modesty's response was to smile kindly as she watched her colleague's guarded expression. The engineer knew more about what was going on in their Control's heart than anyone else on the team. She had noted that over the past few months that Barney had evolved into Jarod's confidante. The two had bonded enough for them to occasionally spend their down-time together. Not for the first time, Modesty wondered if Barney was more loyal to Jarod or to the agency. That spurred another thought. Who served as Miss Parker's confidante and what interesting tales could be told there?

An hour later, Jarod joined his team and began sketching out the details of his modified plan. "Plan B is now operational. Almost everything is the same as Plan A but with Modesty taking Thackery through the vents to the rendezvous point on Level 7. Modesty, you're going to have the lion-share of getting Thackery out but you're going to need help dragging him through the vents. With that in mind, I've alerted my personal contact inside the Centre to help you. Don't worry about finding him—he'll find you. If there are any deviations, improvise, but let me know as soon as possible. Also, make sure the sweeper who is supposed to pick up the crate doesn't see you. I've put in a time cushion for you but as we all know, that doesn't mean you can be late; if you are, text me immediately. I'll ask Parker to pull her sweeper and have another replace him which should give you an additional 5-10 minutes. But use that as your last resort—timing is everything and it will throw Jonas' part off as well. The next modification is aimed at you Jonas. You will be taking the crate with Thackery from a real sweeper and not Geoff, so exercise the usual caution. There should be about half a dozen pairs of eyes on you."

"No problem here, Jarod. I'll put on a convincing act. While everyone is watching me, Barney should have enough time to slip past and into the truck."

"Excellent. Let's get started."

_**The Centre  
****Medical Research Division—Level 12  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Modesty entered the monolith structure for what she hoped would be the last time. She leisurely made her way to Thackery's office, fully aware that he wouldn't be showing up for the day, but determined to keep up the pretense of expecting the surly doctor. She had seen the effects of Jonas' little drug and knew the doctor would be in a semi-inebriated/hypnotic state. The gaseous substance was powerful stuff and there was enough in the vial device to keep Thackery quiet for hours. Modesty sat down in her usual place, performed the rituals she had so carefully established for the viewing public, thanks to the camera discreetly tucked in a corner of the office and did all the usual things. Wandering through to the doctor's private office, she placed the reports he requested from her on his desk. As she looked at his desk, something caught her eye. A file labeled "Emprise" was peeking out from underneath a pile of paperwork. Modesty flipped through the file, shocked and horrified by what she was reading. All the research seemed to originate from a noted psychiatrist who had made a bold assertion and then backed it up with a terrifying formula. Without thinking, she carried the folder to her desk where she continued reading. Notes, handwritten by Thackery were scribbled in the outer margins. They weren't much but one particular note sparked her interest. Thackery had written "history of stomach ulcers, problematic? Antibiotics?" with no other explanation. It was typical of the man, he would write an identifying marker about a test subject in a file where no one would think to look for such a thing. Modesty became so absorbed in the file's contents what occurred next took her completely by surprise. Everything seemed to take on a surreal quality, her mental gears were temporarily unable to engage—still reeling from the information she had just taken in from the folder; her heart froze, pupils constricted and breathing paused for a full 20 seconds. Thackery had strolled into the room, barking orders and, if possible, was more irritable than ever. Fortunately, he was so self-absorbed that he didn't notice Modesty's reaction to his appearance.

It took the highly trained agent only a few seconds before she pulled herself together and giving a fully fabricated excuse, left the office to take care of this little problem once and for all. The folder she had been reading was still clutched firmly in her hands.

_**Commissary – Eastern Concourse  
Tier A**_

Sydney rarely ate breakfast any longer. To top it off, it had been years since he had last sat down to a meal in the cafeteria. The food was surprisingly above average—easily reaching 4 star restaurant status. It was one of the improvements Lyle was responsible for that garnered him an approval rating from the rank and file. However, none of this was achieved without a modest price hike; Broots was still bitterly complaining about the cost of Funyuns, completely unaware that his close association with Miss Parker gave him a measure of celebrity within the Centre and especially amongst his fellow technical specialists. It was because of his success in becoming close to the beautiful executive that others of his kind saw him as a type of role model and strove to imitate that success. So his desire for the snack food had made it even more popular among most other techno-geeks. Sydney didn't bother trying to explain any of this to his nervous friend. Supply and demand were such fundamental concepts that if Broots couldn't expand his reference enough to intuit the reason for the price hikes, and was too blind to see the outright envy in the eyes of his colleagues, than it wasn't up to a tired old man to point out the patently obvious. It was hard to beat the Centre when it came to employee perks—the downside was it was also hard to imagine what the corporation often times subjected to and demanded from its executives, and on occasion, rank and file employees.

This morning Sydney was in a great mood. Everything was in order and ready to implement. There were only a few minor details that the psychiatrist wanted to go over with his friend. Looking around the spacious dining area, it took Sydney a couple minutes to locate Broots. At the head of the coffee queue, the technical services manager was taking full advantage of his position and cutting into line in front of several, weary-eyed employees, to pay for his large cup of coffee first.

"Broots, I've been looking for you. Do you have a few moments to spare?"

"Oh hey, Syd. I'm on my way back to my office. Why don't we talk there? I've put the finishing touches to the security upgrades Miss Parker requested. Geez, there were so many bugs in the program that I'm starting to feel like the Orkin guy. You know the one with the white hardhat?"

"Where exactly are you going?" Sydney asked as Broots exited from a little used side door.

"Remy, you know, Parker's assistant, is obsessed with exploring as many unused corridors as he can find. We have a little competition going on, whoever can find the most oddball routes that no one knows about, wins."

"And where does this passageway lead?"

"Oh, it goes to my office, in a sort of round about way. So far I haven't seen anyone else in this hallway, even during lunchtime so I'm sure this one will win me a steak dinner. Uh…what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Is this corridor monitored like the others?"

"_Every_ corridor has a DSA feed. But Security has their hands full with the frequently used hallways. Routes like these usually drop off the radar. I know, I've checked."

At Sydney's hesitation, Broots replied, "this is probably safer than my office, which, by the way, has a DSA feed as well. What's going on?"

"The hypothetical situation I spoke to you about a week or so ago is ready to go forward. Everything is in place; all we have to do is wait for the precise time."

"Have you said anything to her?"

"No. This is something I've played around with in my head for years. It's still a little difficult to wrap my mind around the mere possibility of it coming to fruition. Now the moment of truth is just about here and I'm drawing a blank on how to broach the subject. There's so much at stake here, so much work put in and risks taken that I don't want to ruin everything with a wrong word. Any ideas?"

"On how to approach her? _Her_? Did you forget that I used to dream about her? About her putting me in a blender? Geez, I still break into a cold sweat just thinking about it!"

"Used to, really? Has getting to know her better over the years changed your feelings?" the non-stop psychiatrist asked with his equally persistent curiosity.

"Yeah, sort of. Okay, maybe not but that's beside the point. You're good with people, you have to be. What would you say to her in your imagination?"

"That it was the right thing to do and something that would make her mother proud. After everything we've discovered about Catherine, I doubt this was ever in her plans."

"Maybe this isn't something we should be doing. If her mother wouldn't want it for her, then why should we push it? For that matter, if we wouldn't do it, why should we try and talk her into doing it?"

"Because it _is_ the right thing to do and there isn't anyone else who could do it in her place."

"Oh, yeah, I see your point. But I still can't help but think this isn't the right time. Regardless of how you approach this, I can't see her doing anything but rejecting this without bothering to really think about it. I mean, this latest promotion gives her a lot of clout and power but around here, that goes only so far. It doesn't make her immune to either the Triumvirate or the rest of the Tower."

"Humm, that's my conundrum as well," Sydney replied thoughtfully.

Broots warming to the subject, continued, "Also, as she would put it, 'Where's the incentive?' This place has taken just about everything she has ever cared about."

"Yes, of course you're right. But we need this and at the end of the day, I think she needs this as well."

_**Chairman's Office  
The Centre**_

"It seems the so-called _treatments_ are yet another failure. There hasn't been any discernable change in the principal subject."

"What about the other? From what I hear, he's experiencing all the benchmark symptoms. Everything seems to be running to form there."

"Yes. The spotter has confirmed that he is presenting with just about all the target signs. What's puzzling me is that I have also heard much the same about him but from independent sources. The violence has been noted and then the sudden cessation, almost to the point of docility because the trigger was given. As for the principal subject—nothing. We haven't seen much violence, not counting the unfortunate Mr. Leary, but there's nothing docile about her either. Speaking of Leary, I didn't see any hunger in her eyes for the kill; no underlying anticipation of relief. There was plenty of that in the twin. I'm sure this protocol needs to be in the development stage but her absolute lack of symptoms is too puzzling; at the very least there should be some blinding headaches from the induction chemicals. Any joy from the search of her personal vehicle?"

"Willie didn't find so much as an overnight bag. Wherever she went, apparently toiletries or a change of clothes weren't required."

"She has to have developed her own controller. Someone must be activating the trigger in order for her to continue symptom free. Probably some mangy unknown like that roughneck she was involved with a few years ago. You see, this is the reason why the treatments needed more study. I would've thought that with the success you enjoyed from isolating Jarod that the Centre would've understood the efficacy of thoroughly managing test subjects. They shouldn't be left free to roam around to allow stray influences to sully the results."

"An interesting theory about the controller but without any evidence to back it up, that's all it will ever be. Our proven research methods would've been impossible to achieve with these subjects, you know that," came the breathy reply.

"Which brings me to my next objection: They were the wrong subjects for a beta-test to begin with. The risk of reducing them to zombies was too high and losing their productivity would place you in a delicate situation with the Tower. Now if I'm correct about the controller, then we have another unknown added to the mix. This unknown element has probably discovered that he has control over the subject—a subject who has recently become extremely important and wields a great deal of power. If I'm right then we have a delicate situation that could easily blow up in our faces. There's a lose end running about with no way for us to effectively tie it off when we need."

"Nothing is so absolute, Dr. Cox. As for the Tower, they will continue to tow the line for as long as the Triumvirate remains."

"Too bad the threesome didn't see this promotion coming out of left field. _Managing Director_, I'm surprised she accepted it. That would force her to report directly to you."

"Yes, no doubt she is thinking of using it as a spring board into my position," Raines lied softly. Traditionally the Tower was a tentacle of the Triumvirate, but lately, with all the changes imposed after Mr. Parker's death, for the sake of continuity and to keep the current, high-profile clients happy, a number of directors had been promoted from within, instead of being hand-picked or appointed, which effectively watered down the board's loyalty to the Triumvirate. Parker would report to him any actions, changes or needs the Tower wanted, however, if the group decided that he had stepped out of line, then the Chairman would be forced to report to the Managing Director—not the other way round. A situation Raines knew Parker would relish to the last drop. Also the choice of Parker was easy because she retained control over the Security division which had projects going that the director was keeping classified—secrets Raines couldn't force her reveal. This latest move on the Tower's part had to be in direct response to his disregard of their objections to the Thackery project.

_**Parker's Office  
The Centre**_

"Good morning, Director. You look like you had a good night," Remy stated with a smug smile in his voice. He couldn't hide the pride he felt in Parker. In his opinion, she was the hardest working, most effective and creative executive the Centre employed. Her well honed business acumen had garnered the corporation huge profits and the business profiles she had waiting in the wings also promised further expansion and earnings. And as a weird twist that the corporation was known to inspire, her twin, Lyle was the only other who came close to matching her merciless work ethic.

"Slept like a baby," Parker replied absently as she rifled through the stack of mail neatly placed on her desk. What really occupied her thoughts was Jarod. His semi-bombshell that he was working for a covert government agency had caught her off guard. She knew whatever had brought him back, had something to do with the Centre and most likely in some project it was exploiting.

She couldn't help but be fazed by the fact that soon he would be leaving. For her heart it was like the final nail being rammed home for good measure. To make matters worse, he didn't bother hiding his feelings for her. When he revealed his dirty trick, her anger had been quickly tempered by her own growing 6th sense about him. She somehow knew he was putting everything on the line so that they would have a shot of seeing each other after he was finished with his current pretend—regardless of his promise. This morning, after she teased him about holding his little helper hostage, they returned to her bedroom to dress. Before she could disrobe, Parker was grabbed and thrown on the bed. Jarod landed on top of her with one of the most mischievous smiles she had ever seen on his face. What followed was a repeat of an incident that occurred some 30 years ago, which she had diligently shoved into a locked corner of her mind—until now. Jarod began to tickle her. As a rule, she really wasn't all that ticklish but he knew the exact spot to target which left her in a paroxysm of giggling laughter that made it near impossible to defend herself. Through her tears, she could see he was laughing along with her. When he finally stopped, she continued a panting laugh for several seconds while he stared longingly at her.

It was as if she were twelve all over again and Jarod was explaining the physiological reasons why touching particular areas of the body caused a person to laugh, to which she saucily gave him the vernacular term—ticklish. To prove his point, Jarod, using the correct pressure, lightly touched her to wildly satisfying results. In response, Parker began to run to get away from him. Jarod cornered her and continued the tickling until the same look came on his face—a longing that spoke volumes. Parker returned his stare shyly until she remembered something. She reached into her sweater pocket and handed a wrapped package over to her best friend. It was a simple cloth handkerchief that she thought would be helpful when Sydney made him do those sims that made Jarod break out in a sweat. The immediate look of curiosity came over his features, much to Parker's delight. Her reward was his expression. Jarod looked up and his eyes asked her the usual question, 'What is it?' Parker smiled boldly at him this time, silently urging him to open the gift. For a few short seconds they silently conversed, connected and in tune with each other. Parker took in Jarod's desire and surprised him with some of her own. This non-verbal tête-à-tête was rudely interrupted by a most unwelcome interloper—Raines who yelled at them both. Parker could never forget the cowardice that seized her as she ran away in alarm, leaving Jarod to face the music alone. That same evening, her father said nothing to her but when she woke the next morning, her bags had been packed and the butler was handing her airline tickets to her new school abroad.

This time Raines was no where near to interrupt them as Jarod leaned in to kiss her. An hour or so later they were both out of breath but sated. Parker didn't want to think about what they had just done, what it meant to her or how she felt about anything. Parrying his attempts to hold her, Parker muttered that it was late, went into the bathroom and after washing up, readied for work.

"….Director? Seems I lost you there for a few moments."

"I heard you. Oh and by the way, the Webster dictionary people called. They want you prosecuted for all those r's you keep murdering." Remy laughed delightedly as they left her office together to attend their first Tower meeting with her as Managing Director.


	27. Team in play

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 1 for the usual statements.  
**Author's note: **Yeah, it's been a really long time. 

**Mission Impossible**

**(Chapter 27  
**…**in action)**

_**The Centre****  
Biological Research – Level 5  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Thackery had moved his primary operations from the cramped space on the more 'secure' level of SL-20 in favor of the spacious biological research labs for several reasons: This lab was more spacious, better laid out and had been supplied with a large, secure-looking safe in which he stored his induction chemicals and the computer files for his invention. He no longer felt secure in any sense but especially knowing Cox was aware of his SL-20 hidey hole and demonstrated that he could and would waltz in at his leisure. In addition, this lab area had the advantage of being closer to his private offices.

Ever since Cox fully, if not sarcastically, explained the risks involved in using these particular guinea pigs, Thackery could no longer indulge himself with the delusion that he was untouchable. It never occurred to the geneticist to ever spare a second thought about his subjects—who they were, where they came from or how they affected the world around them. It was a detail that he felt didn't warrant his attention—now he was feeling the unsettling effects of such neglect. To ease these alarming worries, Thackery did what he always did—began working on setting up a scapegoat to take the fall for his failures. Fortunately, the Centre had been most helpful in that endeavor. Jennifer had been chosen to take the full blast of the heat for any setbacks—and with the Parker woman showing few, if any signs of succumbing to the 'treatments', it was almost a sure bet that the heat would be coming and quickly. With some careful maneuvering, Thackery would make sure that he survived any repercussions or retaliations.

With an evil smile that would make even a zombie cringe, Thackery recalled how he had willingly shared the code to the safe with his assistant, securing from her a promise that the combination would remain between them. He went further to rig the safe so he would know when she was snooping around. So far, the woman was doggedly honest. He wasn't used to that, but it didn't matter. When the time came, all the blame, sprinkled generously with a few well placed lies, would land squarely on Jennifer's beautiful shoulders and thoroughly bypass him. To back-up any theft claims, Thackery kept his heavily edited, hard-copy files in the safe—the full back-ups he kept in his rooms—cleverly hidden.

Modesty made her way over to Thackery's new lab. For such a brilliant man, he was extremely inept when it came to hiding things from her. It didn't take a genius to know that for him to volunteer giving her the combination to the large safe in the lab, he had plans to blame her for any mishaps or failures on his part. To confirm her theory, Modesty carefully checked the safe and found his tell-tale sign of a human hair stuck between the door jam and door, on the lower threshold. Modesty studied it for a couple seconds and then went on to open the safe—carefully catching the hair that dropped once the safe door swung open. Inside, she had found a treasure trove of all the doctor's files and treatments. During the time Jarod had taken Parker away for the week, Modesty had been industriously removing, diluting and copying everything in the safe. Her method was simple, she uploaded electronic copies to the dummy folder set up by Jarod, returned to the Inn to browse and then alter the content, (she didn't have time to read through all the dense material) and then once she was in the lab, exchanged the real thing for her heavily altered fakes. Modesty used her talents as a gifted forensic psychologist to subtly inject high-sounding ridiculous phrases and retained content that would justly discredit Thackery.

Modesty put the final altering touches to Thackery's documents in the safe. Previewing her work once again, she began printing out the results that would then be placed in the vault while the originals were scanned, uploaded to Jarod's dummy folder and then shredded. So far she hadn't found any CDs or Flash drives of the originals in the safe but as a stop gap, she had hidden both types of electronic storage in amongst the documentation. If it was all at their fingertips, then perhaps the Centre wouldn't look any further. An imperfect solution but there was nothing better in her arsenal and time had run out. As she entered the medical lab, she was looking for something different in the large safe. This time when she opened it, Modesty didn't care if the small human hair floated lazily to the floor. What she needed was important and symbolic at the same time. When she spotted the item, a satisfied smile graced her features as she stood up straight holding her small treasure. Modesty looked around at the neatly arranged equipment. Thackery was a bit of an obsessive compulsive when it came to cleanliness. Everything had its place and everything was in its place—including her, as she walked with calm deliberateness to her workstation. She logged into the computer, quickly accessed Jonas' anonymous proxy server, and alerted the team that she and the camera were ready. Out of sight of the watching camera, she withdrew a tiny gadget she obtained from Jarod and aiming it in the general direction of the camera, pushed a button. Nothing appeared to have happened; the DSA camera's LED still indicated it was recording. However, on the face of her gadget, its green LED blinked several times before settling down to a solid green—indicating that a previously recorded day was now playing on the surveillance screens. Turning to look once more around at the neat and tidy room, Modesty rolled up her sleeves and began systematically trashing the lab.

_**Centre Shipping/Receiving warehouse**_

Geoff turned his face towards the sky, futilely trying to catch some warmth off the brilliant but otherwise weak rays of the sun. Smiling to himself, he shrugged as he adjusted the strap of his messenger bag more comfortably across his chest and strolled up the stone steps to the employee entrance. As usual, the place was hopping with activity; Centre shipping employees were bustling hurriedly around like a swarm of angry bees. The sound of beeping forklifts, shouts and banging was practically deafening and chaotic. To add to this mess was a confusing jumble of packages and crates arranged 3 deep and to one side of the voluminous shipping area. To the untrained eye, this operation appeared to be an exercise of massive confusion when in fact it was an orderly, tightly run department that kept a strict schedule and bureaucratic account of every item that either entered or left the Centre. He took advantage of the flaw in warehouse security which included a protocol the workers felt was unnecessary—having someone prowl amongst the received cargo at random intervals to insure no one entered the premises or had access to the still sealed cargo without authorization. To date, nothing had come up missing or tampered with, so the lax attitude continued. Geoff causally pressed his thumb onto the scanner's surface, displayed his new Centre Security issued ID to the card reader and the responding beep allowed his entrance. He habitually came to work via the entrance that normally served only the shipping/receiving and returns personnel. They had grown used to this friendly sweeper arriving early in order to watch them work for a few minutes before disappearing into the office areas. He hung about inconspicuously until he was in the aisle where the target crate was located. When he was confident no one was looking, he ducked down low and eased the backing off a large crate. When he was done extricating a few small items, Geoff carefully replaced the backing and walked away. He breathed a sigh of relief that Centre security didn't bother monitoring the warehouse too closely. The sweepers at the loading dock entrance were there in case anyone tried to filch anything. The inventory tags created a digital link with the employees' ID card when in close proximity—this link would've alerted security should he attempt to leave the building with the tagged merchandise. In Geoff's case, he was stealing but he never left the complex with his pilfered goods at Jarod's insistence, thus further circumventing security's inventory theft system. There was only one more tiny detail to be attended to before he continued on with the next phase of the mission.

Last night, Geoff checked on the counterfeit invoice he had planted in the system. It was still there waiting. Everything was going to plan as he slowly strolled though shipping, checking his watch while ostensibly heading towards the exit. What he was waiting for was the timer on the corridor security cameras. He knew the surveillance rotation of the cameras on this level and waited for the view to cycle through. When he knew the coast was clear, Geoff partially opened the door and aimed the device he received from Jarod at the camera and waited for the green LED on his device to stop flickering. Then he slipped out of the door and headed directly for the stairs, pausing only to reset the camera's view to normal and continuing to his destination. It took him 5 minutes to reach Level 7 and when he emerged, he found the corridor sparsely populated. Immediately he headed away from the main promenade area, dodging several hurrying Centre office staff along the way. When he came to an anonymous, un-labeled door, Geoff entered immediately—giving the air of someone who was supposed to be there. The room was dark and close. Not wanting to risk attracting any unwanted attention, Geoff ignored the light switch, snapped on a penlight and made his way over to a large vent that was at knee level. He reached into his messenger bag, took out a cordless screwdriver and set to work. He was finished 10 minutes later after placing the screws inside the vent and carefully propped the cover against the opening in order for it to look passably normal once again. Straightening up, he shined his flashlight around the room and found the crate he was looking for—the one he had planted in this room on his second day of employment. Someone had shoved it aside but otherwise seemed not to have disturbed it. With a quick smile, Geoff checked the crate for any signs of tampering and then once again reaching into his bag, he retrieved a shipping list copy of the waybill and shoving it into a plastic holder, affixed it to the top side of the crate. Then to make sure the crate resembled the others he had seen leave the Centre's warehouse, Geoff took out a cardboard template and spray painted the Centre's logo on each side adding a small blue stamp to each logo; giving the package the legitimacy that would allow it to leave the shipping area. When he was done Geoff packed up his template, spray can, and stamps back inside the messenger bag, placed his newly pilfered items in a shallow box and then casually left the room; melting effortlessly into the flow of foot traffic and out towards the more crowded promenade.

Geoff was careful not to be either too obvious or memorable, his clothing matched those of the typical Sweeper, he blended in with the crowd and made sure not to jostle anyone or to make himself in anyway remarkable. Unfortunately, there was one, coming into work himself who could pick Geoff out of a line-up of twins. Michael, leaving the Eastern Concourse food court, thought it would be prudent to walk off that extra doughnut he had for breakfast. He was just rounding the corner when he spotted Geoff headed towards the elevators. Glancing at his own watch, Michael looked up puzzled. The new guy was never late. He wondered what excuse he would invent, when the memory of the new guy taking those last few blows from Mr. Lyle intruded on his loyalty. He still owed the new guy. Well, this would be it. Michael walked on without giving the new guy another thought.

_**3 miles outside the Centre perimeter**_

Jarod and crew pulled into the shaded driveway of a closed summer house. With the onset of winter approaching, no one was home and the privacy was complete. Jarod slid out of his non-descript Buick and waited outside of the gray utility van with Taylor's Unlimited embossed on each side and on the back. After a few minutes, Barney emerged wearing a matching gray uniform with the logo discreetly imprinted on the chest of his overalls.

"We're just about ready Jarod."

"Good. There's something I want you to do for me. It's a bit off topic but doesn't compromise our mission."

"Name it," Barney replied immediately.

Jarod gave him a small satisfied smile and quickly explained what he wanted done. He finished his request with, "Of course, I want you to do this only after we have Thackery safely tucked away."

"I understand. Consider it done."

Jonas walked up as he rolled down the sleeves of his gray uniform shirt. He had finished double checking the false back in the van and the concealed opening that would allow for someone to slip out of the vehicle unnoticed by security. "Sorry for the delay. I needed to double check that everything was in order."

"No problem, there's still a little time left. You have the paperwork with the waybill number we got from Geoff. Just make sure you park between the loading dock and the underground access tunnel."

"You got it."

"Let's go then. You know how I hate to keep a lady waiting," Barney replied with a smile.

_**Biological Research – Level 5**_

She entered the office and rushed at his door with an expression of frightened dismay that was carefully etched into her features. "Doctor, I don't know what happened, you won't believe this!"

"What is it?" he asked absently. Casually he looked up at her unusual tone of voice. When he saw her face, it was like a coiled cobra was slowly unwinding in his belly.

"It's the lab. It's been vandalized or searched or something. Everything is a wreck and the safe was left open. I'm not sure if anything is missing. I didn't want to touch anything. Please come quick!"

"You say someone vandalized it?" Thackery asked slowly, trying to figure out if now was the time to cut and run.

"Yes, all your things are strewn around the room. Papers are everywhere. I don't know what to do, should we call security?"

"No. I remember the last time they came out," he said aloud while thinking furiously. The thought of someone throwing his carefully alphabetized and categorized paperwork around the room got under his skin. "Okay, I'll go with you," the courage-challenged scientist stated.

Once they entered the lab, Thackery was taken aback by the vehemence of the attack. It was clear to him that Centre security was up to something. Perhaps the Parker woman found out—but that wouldn't explain why she hadn't sought him out? Thackery bent down to retrieve some papers when Modesty pounced. With admirable stealth, she slipped the soaked cloth over Thackery's nose and mouth, forcing him to breathe in the specially formulated sedative. The effect was immediate. He didn't even have time to fight or look surprised since Modesty, who was thoroughly sick and tired of this yahoo, gave him a slightly larger dose than what he had inflicted on his own victims. Once he woke up, she was sure the symbolism of using his invention to turn him over to the authorities wouldn't be lost on the good doctor.

Modesty watched Thackery's unconscious body slump to the floor. Checking her gadget once more, she confirmed that the security camera was still replaying an earlier recording to Centre security, showing that everything was okay. No sooner had Modesty text to Geoff that she was ready, than he was at the lab door.

Geoff entered the lab with hurried casualness. It didn't take him longer than a couple seconds to find Thackery sprawled out on the lab floor. "'Pride goeth before the fall'; Well from this angle, it looks like the floor rushed up to hit him."

"He's ready, but I haven't been so lucky finding his originals, either in CD form or pen drive."

"We're on a tight schedule as it is. Neither of us can waste time looking for them. Where are ours?"

"Inside the safe. I'll put what's left of his special knock-out juice back while you do your thing," she said as she watched him lean over the hapless doctor.

While Geoff started pulling items from his messenger bag, Modesty made her way over to a small locker where she kept a carefully hidden stash of make-up and clothing. When she was finished, Modesty retrieved the vial containing the sedative and placed it in the safe. It was important for the Centre to find everything they expected to find. Any alterations and they might stumble on the truth much quicker than intended. With a smile, Modesty pocketed the extra quantity of the sedative. From the way it worked on the doctor, the sedative was something that could come in handy on other ops. She quickly pulled on a pair of latex gloves, wiped the CD and flash drive free of her prints and pressed Thackery's fingers firmly on them. There wouldn't be any question that he had handled these versions of his work. As an afterthought, she wiped her prints from both the locker and safe, double checked that ev

erything was as it should be and closed the locker, leaving the safe open. When she turned around, she was momentarily taken aback.

"You have to teach me how to do that one day. Ready to go?"

"After you," he said, as he gingerly eased his broken arm out of the sling and walked over to the vent at the far end of the lab. Modesty, meanwhile hoisted Thackery into a sitting position and grabbing him around his underarms, proceeded to drag him across the freshly waxed floor. For once she was glad that all the doctor's whining had paid off in getting maintenance to keep the floor highly waxed and shined. She paused for several seconds once she reached the vent, releasing her hold on the doctor and then slung Geoff's messenger bag across her shoulder after she neatly tucked the Emprise folder safely inside.

"Hey, you're a lot stronger than you look," Geoff said with a grin. Then each took an arm hoisting the dead weight upright and propped the sleeping doctor against the wall, leaving Geoff to use his good arm side to bodily hold up the doctor while Modesty crawled thru the open aperture. The space was limited and she had to crawl some ways before a juncture in the air ducts provided more room. She was on the brink of turning around when she was startled to notice a shaggy haired figure staring at her curiously.

"Friend send? From Jarod?" the deep voice asked almost shyly.

"Yes. You're Jarod's contact? Will you help me? He's very heavy and the way is narrower than I imagined."

Her only response was an uncertain look before the strange man scrambled quietly down the passage she had just come from. In less time than she could've imagined, he was back towing Thackery's dead weight behind him. Without giving her another look the man said in his monosyllabic manner, "This way."

"Do you know where we need to go?" she asked. He paused for a nanosecond before readjusting his hold of Thackery's lab coat and continuing down the air duct.

_**3 miles outside the Centre perimeter**_

Jarod was lost in thought for several minutes, his pensiveness brought on by an earlier encounter with Parker. Lately, she had been occupying his thoughts almost to the point of obsession. He was crazy about her with a newly discovered hunger that seemed to grow with every moment. Jarod summarily excluded her from his promise of never contacting anyone at the Centre again with a casualness that would've riled Parker beyond words. Sitting alone in the car, he reviewed his feelings with a clinical thoroughness to insure the investment he was making in her was something that would continue to solve his persistent loneliness and satisfy his heart. It was in his clinical approach and mentally simming scenarios of how her co-workers and friends would take Parker having a personal life that everything came together. The puzzling Centre intrigues suddenly made sense like a Chinese puzzle box that had unexpectedly fell open revealing all its secrets. Sydney, the picture of Parker on his desk, Modesty's observation of Sydney and Parker's interaction, the crazy promotion—the holes created by a lack of information and attention were for the most part quickly filled in by his own genius imagination. This led to a slight alteration in his plans. The cruel smile that played on his lips widened as he thought through the varied reactions his freshly revised plan would create.

In his mind's eye, he recalled Parker's attractively mussed hair (he couldn't seem to resist doing that), the expression of barely suppressed desire in her eyes and the puzzlingly guilty look that suffused her features when she realized what she was doing. For the second time that morning—this time fully dressed and ready for work, she muttered something about being late. This thin excuse was heartening as Jarod rushed over grabbing her around the waist and enveloping her in his arms with a rakish smile. "Why not call in late—just this once."

Parker paused for barely a 10th of a second before the expression in her eyes changed from desire to hardened purpose. As she started to answer him, Jarod pounced. He covered her mouth with his own and kissed her the way he knew she liked. The effect was immediate: a small whimper of defeat followed by a few blissful minutes of shameless necking. Finally, she broke away, breathing heavily.

"I have to go."

"Not now, you're not even wearing any lipstick."

"That's because I learned after I left the house one too many times to find I was looking like Bozo the clown. I almost got into an accident when I got a look at myself in the rearview mirror. You do this every time," she complained unconvincingly.

"You want me to stop?" he asked after shifting his focus to her exposed neck. Her response was yet another encouraging whimper. "Uhmmmmm, enough said," he replied as his hands pulled her further into his body. Jarod sat alone in his vehicle and purposely indulged himself for approximately 2 minutes as he thought through what he had been able to do to his girlfriend between the time she told him she had to leave and when she finally walked out of the front door.

Jarod briefly paused to mentally shift gears before turning his eyes on the large suitcase in the seat next to him. Quickly opening it, the contents revealed a large, sturdily encased computer. Without any wasted movement, the pretender switched on the computer, keyed in a long series of numbers and then leaned back to await the response. It took longer than usual given the extensive strings of data Jarod had just typed in, but finally the tracker obeyed his commands and indicated with blinking green dots, the locations of all his team members. A sarcastic smirk formed on his lips as he thought about Barney's constant harping about protocols. It was their turn to carry tracking devices and the screen in front of him showed Jarod the location of each of his team. Geoff was stationary inside the Centre, however, Modesty was on the move. Good, everything was going according to plan.

Jarod then pulled out his smart phone and once again read the message he had received earlier from CJ, his longtime source of information on all things relating to the Centre. His recent insight had been spurred in part by the cryptic message. Though he wasn't surprised, the note didn't put a smile on his face.

_**Biological Research – Level 5**_

Geoff quickly neatened what Modesty had trashed. All was about back to normal when he settled in front of the open safe. Modesty had given him the combination but he was thankful that she had left it opened. He picked up a thick sheaf of papers and began reading through the dense material. It was difficult to tell where Modesty had injected her own misleading statements but either way, it was boring, dreary stuff. To top things off, his jacket was a bit on the tight side. He was readjusting the fit for the tenth time when the lab door opened. Geoff's back was to the door and he froze wondering who was there. Modesty had told him that no one ever came to visit the doctor.

"Thackery, we have some concerns about the treatment and protocols. Perhaps you can clear up the progress that isn't occurring with the primary subject."

It was a smooth, clear voice that despite is even baritone held a blatant note of contempt and danger. The voice belonged to a stranger who sounded disgusted and spoiling for a fight. This wasn't in the original script but Jarod being Jarod had warned that something like this could happen. Geoff felt his throat constrict and his heart beat uncertainly as he affixed the little high tech device to his throat and covered it with his shirt collar. With some trepidation, he turned around to face his visitor. There were two men just inside the doorway. The second man was none other than the one Jarod had warned them to avoid. Chairman Raines stood next to Dr. Cox, oxygen tank in hand looking hard and angry.

"Gentlemen, what can I do for you?"

"How about answering my question?"

"You mentioned concerns. Well, it's difficult to deal with your concerns when I have developed so many of my own. Like why does security feel the need to search my lab? What is it that you're really after? I was never given the full story about the unusual application of my therapy. What's really going on?" Geoff asked as he became more accustomed to the voice modifier at his throat.

"It's a little late to be expressing an interest in our application. Whatever you need to know, I am sure the Triumvirate will take it upon themselves to inform you." Raines stated unhappily, oblivious to the areas of the lab that Geoff left trashed. Cox looked around and frowned at the mess near the safe and the broken glass in the research area.

"Perhaps we should get to the bottom of this. It will give us a opportunity to exploit a bad situation to suit our needs," Cox replied solemnly. He turned, open the lab door and spoke quickly to the sweeper outside.

"Late yes, but as the gynecologist was so eager to point out last week, our guinea pigs aren't the usual expendables I'm used to treating."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Raines inquired suddenly curious and wary at the same time.

Geoff saw his reaction and replied with easy calculation, "Expendables don't expose me to hostile criticism. High value test subjects raise the stakes considerably and I think I should be compensated accordingly."

A sardonic laugh echoed through the lab as Cox took several steps forward and grinned evilly. "You're trying to hold out for more money? Now that definitely takes a set. Doctor why don't you see if this mockery of a clinical trial shows any results before holding your hand out for bonuses? The principal has yet to show any signs of succumbing to this farce of an experiment."

Geoff, always adept at thinking on his feet, evaluated Cox's statement quickly. He mentioned the "principal" which meant that there was at least one other involved in the experiment. Also considering Modesty's recounting of her eavesdropping between the two doctors, Cox had been more cautious, now he was certain, almost assured but only about the "principal". Geoff decided to gamble.

"The other is showing signs and looking promising. The principal could be a natural anomaly. It happens in just about every clinical trial. Oh, and I thought you wanted to drop all euphemisms? Is your confidence shaking, doctor?" Geoff asked boldly. They still needed to get the names of the newest victims.

Cox frowned thoughtfully at Thackery's newfound assurance. Something was off but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Thackery had never before shown this level of adeptness in reading situations like this, which could mean only one thing: He had read the spotter's report on Lyle.

"I never had any confidence in your so-called therapy. A true scientist would have full documentation, animal studies and limited human studies would follow with close monitoring…"

"We've been over this enough times, let's cut to the chase. I want a full report on why the principal hasn't shown any symptoms. You have the blood taken from a couple weeks ago that was obtained from the primary physician, use that sample. The less—"

Raines was interrupted by the lab door suddenly opening. Geoff could've strangled whoever it was because he was certain that Raines was about to say the victim's name. Much to his surprise, Parker stepped through the door. A sudden panic seized him as he impulsively turned away from her.

Cox noticed how quickly Thackery turned his back on Parker and almost immediately rolled his eyes in disgust. One moment the quack was having a run on self-assurance and the next was acting like an idiot. If he thought they could completely avoid having any interaction with Parker, he was a bigger moron than he let on.

Parker entered the lab and barely passing a glance over Cox and Raines, her eyes took in the lab and its partially disheveled state. Finally her gaze settled on a man in a white lab coat who was keeping his face averted from her.

"Gentlemen. What fresh incident are you trying to accuse my people of today?"

"Miss Parker, we have been told that security has searched this lab. We want to know the reason why," Raines answered with hollow anger.

Parker raised an eyebrow and stalked further in the room, still staring curiously at the doctor who kept his face turned away. She then turned her back on him and looked first at Raines and then at Cox with an open question in her eyes. Cox shrugged minutely in response.

"Security searched this lab? It's news to me," she replied and then taking a few more steps further into the room in an open area between lab coat and the ghoul, she continued, "Who exactly told you security searched here?" Her question was directed at lab coat who reluctantly turned to face her.

"I assumed these rooms had been searched by security since they are usually kept in pristine condition," Geoff replied with false confidence.

When he turned to face her, Parker paused in shock. Fortunately, her back was to both Cox and Raines so they couldn't see her reaction. It was as Geoff feared, once again she saw right through a disguise that had fooled both the Chairman and Thackery's main detractor.

"I didn't want to disturb you, Miss Parker but Dr. Cox insisted. And since you're here, perhaps you can help unravel this mystery. I believe there are security cameras all over the place. Could you review them and let us know who the true culprit is?" Geoff's heart was beating so hard it was starting to ache. The adrenaline rush was such that it took all his will power to keep himself from running out of lab and put as much distance between himself and these people. In the foreground, Geoff kept chanting to himself that Parker would read the situation quickly instead of exposing him.

Now this took the cake! The next time she saw Jarod, Parker promised herself that she would wring his neck. No, kick his ass and then wring his neck. The mystery as to why her favorite sweeper was so wacky was now revealed. He was Jarod's inside man, currently pretending to be this Thackery character. So this was Jarod's plan—unbelievable. Parker closed her eyes and repressed the sudden irritation that arose in the back of her throat.

"Dr. Thackery, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you but this is the second time you've called security on a wild goose chase, tossing around accusations like this is a badminton match. I trust you still have the combination to this safe?"

Geoff couldn't help but release a heavy sigh of relief. "Yes, I still have it."

"Good. And stop wasting my time. Security had nothing to do with this mess. You're assistant probably was looking for something and got careless." Whirling around to face the other two, Parker's face had returned to its usual expression of disdainful impassivity. "Excuse me, I have better things to do." With that she left the lab.

"You seem to be batting a thousand with her as well. Where's your assistant? Maybe you can get some support from her," Cox stated quietly, breaking the silence that Parker's departure had caused.

"Perhaps we should leave the doctor to think over his induction method. I suspect that's where you went wrong," Raines stated unhappily. The Chairman assumed that Thackery was shocked into silence by the lack of any distress in Parker's overall demeanor.

"There's nothing wrong with the induction method. Some people need a more individualized approach than others," Geoff choked out in alarm.

"Is something wrong with your voice, doctor?" Raines asked breathily.

"Allergies. I should take some medication but there is too much to do and I need a clear head," Geoff responded immediately, thankful for Modesty's full briefing on all things Thackery.


	28. Savant

Author's note: Dexter Morgan is a character from both print and TV (Showtime's Dexter) about a serial killer who only kills according to a code: criminals who have gotten away with murder or other serious crimes.

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 28**

…**plans of mice and men)**

_**The Centre  
Biological Research – Level 5  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Once all his guests had left, Geoff leaned back in his chair and stared at the closed door for several seconds. He heaved a huge sigh of relief and relaxed for a moment. Miss Parker, now that was quite a woman. One day, he would like to have her tell him how she could see past his disguises. What was it she saw that others didn't? Geoff got up and went to the safe, putting on a show for anyone who would bother to look—such as Raines and Cox. For the next several minutes he performed for the cameras as he had practiced prior to getting his arm broken. And though he performed for the cameras his brain was spinning. His impulse was to deviate from the established plan and get the hell out but there was something in the way Parker handled the situation that told him he was secure. She now knew he worked for Jarod but still hadn't exposed him. His admiration of the woman, once shaken when he witnessed the execution of Raines' captive at Parker's command, rose to its previously high level. Finally, after a reasonable amount of time spent pretending to read over some dreary documents and looking worried, he left the lab and headed straight for Thackery's rooms. Everything had to make logical sense and retiring to his own rooms to brood was, according to Modesty, well within Thackery's psychological profile.

**Level 7 **

Modesty followed the strange man through the vents. Though she made it a point to stay in shape, she found herself sweating and panting between floors just to keep up. The shaggy-haired man wasn't affected in the least with the quick pace or close, confined quarters and seemed to focus his entire being on the task at hand; added to that he seemed to have almost abnormal strength. Jarod had told her that he would send his inside informant but this man seemed hardly able to foot the bill. Everything about him indicated that there was something very wrong with him. At worst he was mentally retarded at best; a savant of some sort. Jarod being the brainy fellow he was, the latter was far more likely. But the question she entertained herself with was how had Jarod met him and gained his trust?

Modesty helped ease Thackery's dead weight through the opening between floors. The man waited only a few seconds for her to catch up before scrambling away with Thackery in tow. They seemed to go on for miles. In some ducts, they were obliged to crawl on their bellies which made the going even slower since Modesty had to push for every other pull, to keep the doctor's body moving. Finally, her untiring guide stopped—apparently they arrived at their destination. Despite the unforeseen obstacles, they had made good time. Modesty waited patiently as the shaggy haired man gingerly removed the grate and quietly set it down inside the darkened room. He was gone only a few seconds when he peered into the opening and waved for her to come out. Modesty shoved the doctor's dead weight to precede her when the body abruptly slid out of the duct. She quickly followed and breathed deeply in the darkened silence.

Glancing down at her watch she whispered, "It took us less time than either Jarod or I figured. We have about 15 minutes to load this garbage", she indicated Thackery's still form with a nod, "into the crate and move it out to the corridor."

The quiet savant looked at her uncertainly and shuffled a few steps away without replying. Modesty stared at him openly and then smiled knowing suddenly that the man was indeed a savant. Though his face seemed vacant, there was intelligence in the depth of his eyes, a self-awareness that told her he wasn't the typical savant. The clinician inside her reasoned that his current behavior showed a huge measure of trust—for Jarod and his judgment not for her specifically. If what she had seen of the Centre was a judge of anything, she would guess that perhaps the doctor's here had discovered him as a child in an institution of some kind. It made her wonder if he had been born this way or slowly sank into autism when he was a child. Shrugging to herself, she took off the large messenger bag that held her clothing and looking over at the man again said in a softly modulated voice, "I'll need to change my clothes. Would you like me to help you with this guy first?"

Her answer was a steady stare, as though he hadn't understood a word she said. Fortunately, Modesty had dealt with autistic / savant behavior before and decided she would demonstrate a willingness to assist without having to touch him or invade his space. Placing her heavy bag on a nearby chair, she looked around and didn't find anything to use to pry open the lid of the crate. Tentatively, she tried to lift the crate's lid to find it hadn't been secured yet. She slid it off and by the time she turned around the mysterious savant had halfway lifted the doctor's body while he looked inside the crate. Without hesitation, she lifted the doctor's feet in order to guide the lower half of him inside the crate. The savant held onto the body shaking his head.

"I already gave him a powerful sedative. He won't be waking up anytime soon. It's okay the dump him inside. This jerk has had this coming for months. I only wish I could be there when the authorities wake his sorry ass up."

Only a pause delayed them as Angelo gave a half-smile, and lifted Thackery's body a little further as Modesty fed the doctor's feet and legs into the crate. Angelo then allowed gravity to take over as he slowly released his hold on Thackery's clothing. By this time, Modesty found a box to stand on and arranged the doctor's body so he would fit inside the crate without banging around too much. When she was finished, her companion retrieved a small container and watched as she began to hunt for the item Geoff had left her. A small sound of triumph came from her, as Modesty pulled a large item from under a dusty desk and walked over to the crate. She had to gently bat Angelo's hands away as she placed the box inside the crate—its area was just large enough to snugly cover the inside of the enclosure completely concealing Thackery's presence. Inside the box were an assortment of the small furry creatures that had become such a hit with the Centre employees. Getting a closer look at them, Modesty smiled at their odd cuteness. Geoff had claimed it had been extremely difficult getting a hold of so many. Angelo smiled at the result when Modesty was finished. It gave the impression of the crate being full of the stuffed animals with no indication that someone was hidden underneath. Quickly he began slathering the edges of the opening with a sticky epoxy. Before he closed the lid and without him noticing, Modesty slipped 2 of the creatures out of the box. Angelo turned and replaced the lid, lightly pounding on the top to seal the adhesive. Air holes had already been cut in each corner of both the box and crate and made to look like handholds instead of their true purpose.

Modesty opened the door only slightly, blindly aiming Jarod's little device at what she approximated where the security cameras were located. It took her 2 tries before the green light started flashing and then settled down. Afterwards, the two of them shoved the crate outside the door and into the empty corridor, before returning the camera's view to normal.

_**Level 3**_

The security division occupied the entire third floor. Every project in which security was assigned, initiated or assisted in had been designed, implemented and controlled from this level. This was Parker's domain and she brooked no dissension or interference from anyone, including the Chairman. Contracts involving Centre security in the form of personnel, hardware, software, strategy or implementation of any of the above elements or combination thereof were designed and drawn up at her direction. There were even a few ventures that Parker created independently that even her closest lieutenant was unaware existed.

Parker strolled through her domain with equal parts distraction and anger. How Jarod could have planted his "contact" so close and deep within her little corner of the corporation was disconcerting. What further pissed her off was the fact that she liked the squirrelly sweeper named Greg. He was nuts but Centre-style nuts which she could accept and he was both intelligent and loyal—albeit, his loyalty, she just found out, was actually to Jarod and not herself. All her preliminary plans for that odd-ball were quashed the second she saw him in that goofy get-up. The disappointment smoldered afresh as she realized that she would have to choose someone new to nurse her private projects along. As Parker walked through the corridors with Remy at her side, it happened again. A weird flash pierced her consciousness like a quicksilver lance and caused her to falter in her brisk step. Usually, whenever she tried to access the gift she inherited from her mother, Parker found that focusing directly into a bright light source seemed to trigger visions—either of the past or the future. However, in the past few days the "gift" seemed able to trigger itself and announce its presence with a blinding light. According to this unsolicited vision, it seemed Greg would somehow still figure into the plans she had made for him—which made absolutely no sense. Jarod's usual helpers typically disappeared along with him. Parker shook her head and breathed deeply to shake off the light sense of vertigo she usually got from these "insights". Trying to make sense of them was useless. The only thing she could do in most cases was wait for events to catch up that would eventually explain what she had been shown.

"Ever'thing alright, Director?" Remy asked with obvious concern.

"Yeah, I guess so. I'll be okay. Do me a favor and keep an eye on Cox. I have a feeling he's up to something that will either be illegal or overboard. Worst case scenario—both."

"Yes, Ma'am. Wat about you?"

"I think I'm pretty safe here. Also check up on our version of "Dexter Morgan" for me. Let me know if he's doing anything out of character or something out of the ordinary or strange…uh, horror movie strange." Together they entered the surveillance control room. When they entered the large bullpen, Parker paused looking around while Remy headed towards his favorite station to quickly locate Cox, since it was a good bet that Lyle was doing something strange anyway. Parker's eyes found the person she was seeking and immediately made a beeline for the supervisor of DSA surveillance.

"Joris, just the person I wanted to see. Pull up the feeds for the warehouse and the main corridors that lead to it, including passage 7-062a."

Without looking around or questioning, the tall Dane immediately typed in the requested DSA-feeds and displayed them on each of the 10 20-inch LCD screens in front of him. He had recognized her voice instantly. Since she had been put in charge, Joris had first been elevated to his rightful position and then given lead on several sensitive assignments that were for Security Eyes Only. His discretion was total and unequaled by everything but his loyalty. Early on, after meeting Parker during her stint with corporate, Joris realized with a start that no one lived in a bubble. Even a big-wig's daughter needed someone to listen and on occasion give advice. He was astonished by her candidness but became further amazed not by her revelations but by his own reaction to her—whatever Parker told him, he regarded it as sacrosanct—something that wasn't to be shared or even referenced to in the presence of others and he further took the liberty of bestowing his own brand of common-sense advice. It pleased him immensely whenever he saw his advice in action. He knew almost everything about Parker; including a few things that no one else in the Centre knew about—including Broots or Sydney. As her long time confidante, he was usually spared from her scathing wit and given his unusually healthy home life, he wasn't tempted by her looks—though he had openly admitted to his wife that his troubled boss was one of the most beautiful women he had ever met. Joris soon came to understand that wherever Parker was, he was assured of a covert friend, a boss whose creative vision seemed limitless; could handle power without becoming a megalomaniac and who possessed something more than a semblance of a conscience.

Every screen in the room changed as Joris programmed the computer to show all the warehouse feeds. Each camera displayed a different corridor and scrolled through every conceivable angle. Parker leaned forward with one hand on the back of Joris' chair and stared intently at each screen until she found the view she wanted.

"Enlarge the view on 7-062a." The camera showed a large packing crate sitting alone in the empty corridor. While Joris zoomed in on the package, Parker smiled as she examined it closely. 'The sonofabitch was good. The damn crate even had the proper Centre stamps that guaranteed its legitimacy for Shipping and confirming that it had already been inspected,' Parker thought with wry amusement. Jarod never missed a trick—especially when it came to the details.

"Tell me Joris, are you working for me exclusively or am I deluding myself here?"

"Ah, your situation with me is very grave, Madame Director. I happen to be _your_ friend," Joris replied with a dry smile in his voice as he cast his superior a sideways glance. Good, she seemed ticked off at someone other than himself. To change the subject to something more interesting, he asked, "Does Broots need any help with that security program he's been working on? I've got a few ideas I'd like to knock around with him involving some new upgrades that should make the clients happy."

"More upgrades? No, Broots told me he finally got all the bugs worked out and is beta-testing it. Any new upgrades the clients will have to pay additional or wait. Give Broots a heads up and see if you can work them into a new upgrade package." While she spoke, Parker kept her eyes on the crate and on the digital time as it ticked down. She pulled out her cell phone and made a quick call. "Søren, you're on. No mistakes means you'll earn a new assignment; screw up and you're back with Sven for 6 more weeks." She hung up abruptly never giving the new sweeper a chance to assure her of his diligence. It took Søren 2 minutes before he was picked up by the cameras hurrying down the corridor pushing a handcart towards the crate. Parker watched as the sweeper stopped a foot in front of the crate and then looked around to see if anyone was watching. He then approached the crate cautiously, spotted the blue inspection stamps and the packing slip, then returned to the handcart and maneuvered it under the package. Without further ado, Søren angled the crate upwards and began wheeling it in the general direction of the warehouse. The sweeper seemed to initially have a hard time of it with the heavy box but continued on doing a good job of acting as if everything was status quo.

_**Centre – Outside perimeter**_

Jonas expertly drove the panel van towards the massive loading dock. As instructed, he moved to the near side of the manhole cover and backed the van into position for loading. He immediately alighted from the van carrying a duplicate waybill attached to a clipboard and moved towards the Will Call desk to claim his package with a friendly if vacant smile.

As Jonas was smiling for the suspicious warehouse sweepers, Barney opened the concealed hatch just behind the passenger side seat and eased out of the vehicle. With smooth efficiency, Barney moved out from under the van and silently removed the manhole cover and slipped inside. The tunnel was close and odiferous as he hopped down from the last rung of the ladder. Barney didn't have to wait long before the sounds of approaching footsteps alerted him that he was no longer alone. A light tapping on the tunnel brick, made him relax his stance somewhat as he waited to see if it truly was Modesty rounding the bend.

A shaggy haired man appeared first as he ambled cautiously into the feeder tunnel. Modesty followed closely as she continued to tap on the walls to alert Barney to her presence. Barney gave a half smile as he finally lowered his silenced sub-machine gun and tapped out his response.

"It's about time. I was starting to worry that you forgot about me."

"A beautiful shrink like you? Never. Who's Howard Stern here?"

"Control's inside contact. He got me through the vents and led me here. He's a good guy."

"He coming with?"

Both agents paused as they looked over at Angelo who listened to their conversation as though it was an absorbing tennis match. There was a long pause before he realized that a response from him was expected. Modesty answered for him.

"He would find it difficult to leave permanently, though it would be good for him."

Angelo smiled appreciatively but said nothing. He just shook his head but before he could begin the trek back, Modesty gently held up a hand to stop him. Without saying a word, she withdrew the two stuffed creatures she liberated from the fake top of Thackery's traveling box. Angelo's face lit up into a brilliant smile as he gratefully chose the soft orange colored toy. "Very special. Daughter make. Thank you, Modesty."

Modesty didn't bother hiding her surprise as she smiled at him. Angelo took this as his cue to leave and started down the tunnel the way he came. Modesty called out to him. "Ummm, excuse me, we'll be able to distract everyone for about 5-10 minutes. Will that give you enough time to get back?"

"Yes," Angelo replied. He then whirled and sped down the corridor towards his favorite vents before any alarms could be raised.

"It's a long story," Modesty replied to Barney's puzzled expression. "I'll tell you all about it when we're out of here."

"Let's go. We need to get you hidden before Jonas grabs the package."

_**Level 3**_

Parker watched as her sweeper finally wheeled the heavy container into the shipping area of the warehouse. He struggled with the crate and plunked it down roughly on the dock. There was no sound but she could tell by the expressions on the faces of the other sweepers that he was complaining about how heavy the cargo had been. Then the shipping crew went into action. They examined the paperwork on both the waybills and the information in the system. Here again, Jarod's attention to detail came into play. Apparently everything was in order like he promised and the package was allowed to leave.

What happened next made Parker huff with amusement. The guy receiving the crate waited patiently while his paperwork was being verified with the computer system. If he was nervous, nothing in his demeanor betrayed it. He was wearing a baseball cap pulled low on his forehead, concealing his features from the camera. Before Jarod's man could take possession of the crate, the lead dock sweeper halted the hand over by taking the waybill from the shipping Supervisor, examining it carefully and then, as though he weren't satisfied, the sweeper unexpectedly grabbed a crowbar and forcefully pried open the top of the sealed crate. Peering inside he found the mass of furry toys that was clearly listed on the manifest.

"Hey, if I'm missing even one, my boss will know and then will have to call your boss. Don't think for a minute that I'll cover for you. I'm sure this loading dock has surveillance footage," Jonas stated in a matter-of-fact voice.

The head sweeper gave Jonas a hard stare before replacing the lid of the crate and nodding his approval. Once given clearance, the fellow jumped down, knocked on the door of the van which opened immediately revealing another man. The two spoke briefly, while the sweepers, surprised by the second person in the van almost shot both of them. This unpleasant surprise earned the van a quick inspection by the otherwise bored sweepers who after walking around the rear of the van jumped out and gave the all clear to their armed comrades on the dock. Then in a display only Jarod could have pulled off, the first guy returned to the dock, held his arms up when he saw the machine guns trained on him, and when given the all clear, he grabbed the crate that had been so heavy for Søren. He literally picked it up as though it were light as a feather, walked casually to the van and placed it gently inside.

A general pause caused everyone in the area to look curiously at what had just occurred. Her sweeper must have made a big deal out of how heavy the thing was because soon after, everyone was laughing—at Søren. The poor hapless sweeper stared at Jarod's man agape in disbelief which caused all his co-workers to laugh even harder. Parker shook her head in sympathy. She couldn't count how many times Jarod had done that to her, but with her father being chairman, no one dared to laugh.

Joris watched the action alongside Parker with bored impassivity. Finally turning to gaze in Parker's face he said, "Don't forget about me when you leave, Director."

Parker looked at her friend with a puzzled expression, "What are you talking about?"

"That promotion you were given is nothing more than a deathtrap and we both know it. If I were in _his_ position, I would knock you unconscious and drag you off."

Parker knew he was referring to her lover but she would never tell him Jarod's name. The curious thing was Joris seemed to know she was seeing someone before she ever mentioned it, despite her efforts of concealment. "I seriously doubt that. Besides, you know I'm always strapped."

"Huh…yeah, so just don't forget. As your lieutenant would say, 'Would hurt mah feelin's if you did.'" Joris said with an exaggerated Southern accent.

Parker laughed as she headed out the door. The last thing she would forget would be her long time confidante. It was safe to reveal all with him because he was the one thing she had kept her father, Raines even Sydney and Broots from knowing about. He knew just about all her secrets—the ones she told him and the others he figured out by himself. The only thing she had kept to herself recently were the visions, the headaches and the unusual way she could get rid of the latter. There were certain weaknesses about herself that she wouldn't willingly divulge to anyone. Fortunately, the headaches were steadily decreasing in intensity but conversely her need for the cure, Jarod, seemed to grow instead of diminish. Parker frowned at how much she knew she needed him.

_**Thackery's Quarters**_

Geoff wandered through the rooms admiring just about everything about the décor. This apartment was very nicely fitted up with expensive furnishings and those small touches that made a man feel more like he was at home. Geoff wasn't sure if he were admiring Thackery's style or the Centre's. He had seen many of the executive offices while hanging out by Parker's side. Most, save Parker's of course, seemed to have been decorated with a heavy art deco hand. That style would've been foreign here.

Geoff paced around with all the impatience of a caged animal. He had to perform for the cameras if anyone would believe his part of this drama. He even yelled, just in case security had audio that they hadn't shared with a newbie sweeper like himself. The pacing part was easy to do because it allowed him the luxury of checking out the apartment with all its various nooks and crannies. To cap off his frustration, Geoff threw himself on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He needed to stay here for only a few more minutes before his final performance. Eventually becoming bored he glanced around the room and spotted a bookshelf he had overlooked. On the center shelves were a collection of CDs. Geoff scanned the room again but didn't see a stereo or CD player anywhere. He slid off the bed and ambled over to the bookcase openly staring at the CD collection. Everything seemed in order—it contained a small collection of classical music, jazz and chamber music. His fingers flipped throug the CDs when he noticed one had been shoved behind the others. Reaching through, Geoff pulled it forward and read the name on the jewel case—Amy Winehouse. Since when did a snob like Thackery like R&B? Geoff slid the case out and looked at the CD inside. Tiny numbers were imprinted on the center portion of the disc. Geoff smiled as he reached over and slid a couple more CDs out. The shelf behind the CDs was empty. He returned all but the 1st jewel case to the shelf and stood up impatiently, wondering if this was the backup Thackery was using for his experiments. As he did so, Geoff's knee banged into the shelf, spilling a few books from the shelf. He bent down, picking them up and throwing the CD down on the floor in frustration. The case took a bad bounce and broke apart revealing a small white tag. Geoff picked up the pieces and stared at the tag. If he had tried to walk out with this, the theft deterrent system would've sounded and all their hard work would've been turned into a rescue mission for him. Geoff reassembled the case and made sure the tag was back where it belonged. He then slid the books back to their original places and grabbing hold of a shelf with his left hand he felt the rough edges of scotch tape rubbing against his thumb. It was all he could do not to shout in triumph as he felt along the length of the tape until his fingers touched something small. He peeled the object free and without looking at it or appearing more suspicious, he returned to the bed.

The doctor was clever, but according to Modesty, he was a moron when it came to concealment. Trusting Modesty's judgment, Geoff decided to take both media out with him; the CD disc, sans jewel case and the small, scotch taped flash drive that was now in his pocket. Careful not to betray his feelings of triumph, Geoff got up with a sense of irritation and stalked over to the windows. With a deep sigh, he thought, 'Show time!'


	29. Your Idea or Mine?

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 29**  
…**take me to your leader)**

Sydney had finally summoned the courage to approach Parker. He knew how his contact felt about this move, but for the psychiatrist, he knew waiting too long could be just as disastrous as moving too early. Besides, he knew Parker better than just about anyone else in the Centre. Meeting with her about his plans beforehand would give Parker the illusion of fore-knowledge—a valuable commodity inside the Centre. Sydney approached her inner office door and paused to straighten his shoulders and heave a deep breath before taking the plunge. As he was about to enter the clear voice of Parker's secretary called out to him, "She's not in Doctor. Said she would be out but I have no idea when she's going to return." 

_**Route 41  
Rendezvous point with Federal agencies**_

The day was beautiful with only a brisk chill that required a coat. The air was crisp, clean and clear—perfect. Since this was "help-the-little-guy" day and for once she was aiding on the side of said little guy, Parker decided she also had the right to see this thing to the end. With that in mind, she chose to drive her latest personal vehicle, a Maserati convertible that was ridiculously fast, smooth and quiet. Downshifting expertly into first gear, she allowed the sports car to coast stealthily forward to provide a better view of the main road. Up ahead she watched as the panel truck that had recently left the Centre's loading dock was stopped unceremoniously by a swarm of unmarked police cars. The back of the truck was lifted open from the inside by a dark-complexioned man whom Parker knew she had seen before but couldn't quite place. He gave the authorities a curt nod and slapped his hand on the crate with the Centre's markings. He briefly spoke to the plain clothes investigator who showed his ID after climbing into the back with him. One side of the crate was pried opened and the real Dr. Thackery tumbled out, still unconscious. A few more agents surged forward and roughly took claim of the unconscious doctor from the back of the van and into one of their vehicles. More words were exchanged along with what looked like a receipt. Apparently Jarod's delivery man wasn't taking anything for granted because he slipped a small camera from the pocket of his uniform and began taking pictures of the agents hauling and then loading Thackery into one of their vehicles.

The whole incident took no more than 5 minutes before the back of the van slid closed once more and the unmarked police cars smartly withdrew in single file. The van followed for about a mile before turning off into what Parker knew was a dead-end street. She wasn't sure why but her curiosity about how Jarod would manage to fade into the background once again seemed to spur her on. She knew to follow the van into a meandering dead-end road would leave her completely exposed—so she waited. 

_**Mountain Vista Rd  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Once the Feds claimed their prisoner, Barney shut the doors to the van and moving to the rear knocked twice on the side panel. Almost immediately, the van surged forward. Barney reached down and pressed a concealed button on the floor of the van and the metal backing sprang loose. A shapely hand reached out gripping the sliding door and helped push it aside. Modesty stepped out and smiled at her colleague. Before the van could get much further, Barney stepped into the small aperture Modesty just vacated and peering through the open vent, spoke to the driver.

"Jonas, do me a favor and stop over at 25 Cielo Vista Rd, there's something I need to do," Barney instructed. He would jump out, go through the yard Jarod had indicated and jog across the street to the set of houses 2 streets over on Mountain Vista. Jarod was paranoid but that didn't mean he wasn't right.

A few minutes later Barney reappeared carrying 2 large duffel bags. He jumped in the passenger seat of the waiting van and they set off to rendezvous with Jarod. 

_**Route 41  
Parker surveillance **_

Parker had continued to keep a distant watch on the van but kept to the roads she knew wouldn't expose her leaving the van out of her direct line of vision for a while. Several minutes later, a nondescript Buick made a quick turn into the cul-de-sac and then soon exited, this time accompanied by the van. Each vehicle turned in different directions. The Buick was coming head on towards her with Jarod driving, causing Parker to instinctively duck out of sight to avoid being noticed by him, while the van turned in the same direction she was facing. Parker was on the brink of making a quick u-turn to follow the Buick when a spate of traffic barred her from the highway. By the time she was able to pursue, the Buick was no longer in sight; however the van was slowly making its way towards Blue Cove's version of a town center. She cruised well past her own home when the thought of her house being so close by coaxed her into going there for a bite to eat and a change of clothing. This day had been so strange perhaps a new perspective would be in order. As she neared her own home, Parker saw the van slow and then pull to the side of the road. No one got out but the sight was tempting enough to act like a siren's song to her and she waited a comfortable distance to see what else the driver would do. When the van pulled back onto the road, she began to follow at what she thought was a discreet distance but now there were few vehicles on the road and discretion was difficult since the road was clear in both directions.

Apparently the driver had spotted her because they began a game of cat and mouse. At first Parker thought the van's driver was trying to shake his tail and was about to concede to him when another thought struck her. She had stopped in her pursuit figuring the van's driver would try to flank her and capture her. Still curious about Jarod's methods and wondering what the driver intended on doing with her, she allowed herself to be captured. It took less time than she figured. Almost instantly, her rearview mirror was filled with the sight of the van directly behind her. She pulled over to find the van following suit. The trim, muscular man who had so embarrassed her sweeper with his strength alighted from the van armed with a silenced HK USP45 Compact Tactical pistol. Parker waited for him to walk up to her window but he was more cautious than that, instead he silently walked around to the passenger side window and beckoned her to roll down the window, keeping a steady aim on her with the weapon. 

_**The Centre  
Blue Cove, DE **_

Geoff paused as he looked at the freedom the exit offered. He drew a deep breath, determined not to act on his growing panic and make a run for it. To do so would seal his fate and he doubted if he would ever be allowed to leave the structure alive. Jarod's warnings from the start of this mission still rang fresh in his ears. Experience in this alternate reality told him that Jarod was understating the threat and danger these people truly represented. Yeah, the devil you know alright.

"Sir, I need to see your ID first," the sweeper asked with firm politeness.

Geoff looked over at him and was taken aback. Fashion-victim, the sweeper who had started at the same time as he, was currently manning the exits. The agent fixed the sweeper with a self-important glare and then produced Thackery's quite legitimate identification.

The sweeper looked over the ID, determined not to make any more mistakes and not eager to be a laughing stock once again. This ID gave the barer carte blanch inside the grounds. He was about to bar the man's exit when he looked up to see a queue had quickly formed behind the doctor. The laughter from the loading docks was still ringing in his ears, when he returned the ID with a curt warning. "This ID only allows you access inside the Centre. I suggest if you wish to leave the grounds that you speak to Assistant Director Esperanze."

"My good man, this ID gives me access to both the grounds as well as some of the most security sensitive areas of this mausoleum. If you wish to check, I would suggest that you speak with _Chairman Raines_ for confirmation!" Geoff replied in his most haughty imitation of Thackery.

The effect was immediate. The poor fellow's complexion turned sallow as he swallowed hard and glancing once again at the ID this time turning it over and saw that the doctor was indeed correct. Without another word, Søren waved the doctor through without another word.

Geoff held his head high as he smiled evilly at the chastised sweeper and walked out onto the grounds. Still minding Jarod's warnings and sticking strictly to his instructions, Geoff walked around the outside of the complex towards the lunch areas where the drones were allowed to picnic on the grass and enjoy the outrageous verdure the Centre offered. He knew without having to look around that his progress was being carefully watched. A small smile emerged as he made his way to what Jarod described as a narrow blind spot in security's surveillance. From there he would make a crouched run between the dead grape vines towards a county access road and then freedom. 

_**Trader's Inn  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Parker repressed a satisfied smile as she recalled her first words to her abductor, "Take me to your leader." The gun wielding man hadn't been amused. He hopped into the car beside her and had her park it on what amounted to a trail. The trees and surrounding verdure effectively hid the vehicle from casual view from the road. He placed the keys under a nearby rock and then nodded curtly in the direction of his van and said roughly, "Drive. Make one wrong move and I will happily blow your head off."

After Parker was stationed at the wheel and her abductor behind and just out of view, she started driving. "So you're the famous Miss Parker. You're good-looking, I'll give you that," the man said in resentful acknowledgement. He pronounced her name with the same tone most people use when describing something extremely revolting.

Parker looked over at him long enough for the man to remind her to watch where she was driving. Parker stared at him for another few seconds before returning her eyes to the road. All things considered, her gamble paid off. Though her abductor was rude, he didn't taunt or continue to utter threats.

"I'm going to end your little reign once and for all. I probably won't be thanked for it but it's got to be done. You can look on the bright side—you don't have to lose a thing, except some control."

She was clueless about whatever this guy was going on about. Control over what? Reign over whom? Was he talking about her promotion? What did this guy or Jarod have to do with that? From the expression on his face, Jarod seemed disappointed that she accepted anything the Centre had to offer. Parker realized quickly that she needn't say a thing to find out tidbits of information that she was sure would fill in the holes Jarod had purposely left.

Her blank expression obviously irked her captor. "You know what I'm talking about, so you can cut out the innocent act. I'm not buying it and neither will anyone else once I tell them what you're all about." Parker remained silent but she turned her head slightly, with raised eyebrows and an amused expression.

After a short drive involving several turns and going through a few little used and therefore bumpy alleyways, the kidnapper directed her to park behind an abandoned store. They walked further down the alley to the next set of buildings which turned out to be a smallish tourist-trap Inn. Leaning against a wall and pensively smoking a cigarette was the suspicious woman Parker had almost thrown out of the Centre. When the mystery woman looked up, her expression of pure shock would have been comical for Parker if it weren't for the business end of her abductor's HK in the small of her back reminding her that she had been kidnapped.

"What the Hell!?"

"Quiet. Let's get inside," the kidnapper replied in a much softer voice.

The woman was thoroughly flummoxed but did as she was told. However once they were all inside the room, the woman's reaction made Parker wonder who was in charge and what these people were all about.

"Are you out of you mind bringing her here?! This is completely off protocol. What possessed you pull this stunt?! My God, I was wondering what was taking you so long getting here and then you show up with Miss Parker!" Modesty ranted, the stress in her voice was obvious as she turned away to complain and then turned again quickly to see the weapon Jonas was holding on Parker.

"Oh, no, you brought her here at gunpoint?! What next? Did you invite the Chairman for a surprise visit? Or perhaps you have Dr. Cox strapped to the van's under carriage?"

"Shut up! I know what I'm doing. Geez, woman! I've never seen you freak out before. Calm down."

"Calm down?!" Modesty folded her hands on top of her head as she walked away, taking a deep breath to calm her sudden panic, then diverting her attention to their captive, Modesty asked solicitously, "Are you alright? Have you been harmed?"

Parker raised her eyebrows and silently shook her head "No". Then she pointedly glanced at Jonas who was practically scowling at her to raise her hands again.

"Okay, she gets it. You have her in custody. There's no need to rub it in by having her wave her arms in the air. What we have to concentrate on is how to release her without compromising our project. What possessed you to kidnap her in the first place?"

"She thought she could tail me back here, but I turned the tables on her," Jonas replied with a satisfied smirk. The others rarely allowed him any part of their field work. After this display of his skills, Jonas was certain that situation would change.

Modesty's eyes widened in unadulterated incredulity. Her gaze shifted from Jonas to Parker and back again. "Wonderful. Oh that's just great!"

"What's your problem?" Jonas asked irritably. "I'll explain why I brought her here when the others arrive. I have a good reason for bringing this rotten fish in."

"Yeah, you sure it was _your_ idea?" Modesty shot back immediately. Then in a calmer, conciliating tone, she continued, "Infiltration isn't half so exciting and glamorous as you might think. It's tricky and a lot of hard work. _She_ almost kicked me out of the Centre."

"That's because you all were giving her too much credit. Look at her. She's nothing more than an empty suit, a rich man's daughter, grown up on the teat of the Centre that's corrupted her to the core. Without her father's influence she wouldn't be anything more than one of those paper pushing, low-level drones you told us about and without the Centre she would be less than even that."

Modesty listened to his words but it was his tone of voice that forced the psychiatrist inside her to pay close attention. Jonas had developed a deep-seated hatred for the woman that threw Modesty. He had been quiet through most of the mission but she hadn't detected any particular animosity on Jonas' part towards any of the principals before. Was his ambition to become a field operative so all consuming that he would choose the Security Director to bring down? Or was it a darker, more complicated reason—such as Jarod's obvious passion for the woman? Jarod—their brainy, Control would have a coronary the second he saw his woman being held at gun point. Concealing her true feelings, Modesty, though having a passion of her own for Jonas, knew she couldn't protect him from the ensuing backlash. There was no time to talk Jonas into seeing reason—Jarod and the others would be returning too soon. Shifting her focus to understanding and getting as much information as possible was her best alternative and Parker would be the only one who could supply her.

"There appears to be more things going on here than I know about," Modesty began addressing Parker directly, "have you two ever met before?"

Parker looked over at the operative and knew exactly what Modesty was doing. If the nut case with the gun was determined to wait for the "others"—hopefully Jarod would be in that number, to explain her kidnapping, then trying to figure out possible mitigating circumstances would be the obvious way to go in saving said nut-case. But there were none. Parker shook her head and shrugged slightly.

"No we've never met but I know her type. She's one of the so-called money makers who take credit where it isn't due. They think they're so privileged that all the rest of society has to put up with whatever crap shovel out and clean up after them when there's a mess. I'm so sick of them, I wouldn't mind lining them up and taking the whole lot out at once. Would probably solve everything from world hunger to drug trafficking."

Modesty didn't respond, instead she was struck by Jonas' words. He inadvertently opened a door in her mind-only a crack, allowing a small shank of light though and Modesty knew she had to stay with it to understand what they all had been seeking. 

_**The Centre  
Outer perimeter access road**_

Geoff was careful to follow Jarod's instructions to the letter. He boldly walked through a grove of what he guessed were olive trees and in doing so, almost got lost. The grove seemed to meander on for several meters until he finally reached the edge and spotted the ever distant but dormant grape groves right ahead. He sprinted through and keeping his head down, ran faster than he thought possible towards the rendezvous point.

Barney waited with Jarod just outside of the Centre's perimeter. The enclosed air of the sedan was heavy with unspoken conversation. Barney considered Jarod one of his closest friends and didn't understand why his friend was being so cagey and unwilling to confide in him. He knew that something was eating at him, something extremely unpleasant.

"I want to say something before anything is said that neither of us will be able to take back. I'm your friend, Jarod and right now I'm getting the feeling that you think I've done something to compromise that. To my knowledge, I haven't. So instead of just sitting there stewing, just spit it out and get it off your chest. Geoff should be here in a couple minutes."

"I've been wondering about loyalty, where it begins and friendship ends. Are the two mutually exclusive or is there a possibility of them overlapping?"

"I'm with the group that thinks the two are intertwined. What kind of friend can you call yourself if you have no loyalty? I'm with you through thick and thin—so what's up?"

"There's a mole in my group. Someone's reporting to the agency every move and decision I've made so far on this op. If you don't agree with something I'm doing, I've always been open to hearing alternatives but at the end of the day, I'm responsible for the success or failure of each mission I agree to take on. I can understand if your loyalties to the agency are strong but what I can't stomach is the deception of pretending to be a friend when you never felt that way."

"You think there's a mole? Why and why do you think it's me? Friendship aside, that's career suicide."

"I sent in a message asking for the contact protocols for the other group inside the Centre. I made it clear that I didn't need a face-to-face contact just further intel and that the information was to assist in continuing with my mission. They didn't ask if I could continue or for details of why I needed to contact them. All I got was a 'No'."

"Which means somehow they already knew our situation and didn't need to ask any questions. Plus they _wanted_ to let you know that they had planted a mole. Like I said; career suicide. What other team would take on a tainted operative? There're too many things we find ourselves doing that the agency doesn't have to know about. I've heard they've presented "opportunities" to the seriously ambitious but I'm not in a hurry and there's plenty I know can still learn from you. Sorry man, if you can't tell that I'm on your side, I don't know how else to convince you. On that same note, you can rule out Geoff, he's not your mole either—he's neither ambitious or in a hurry to lead his own team. He had his fill of being in charge with having to run the team and maintain cover whenever our last Control dropped the ball—which was often."

Jarod watched every expression in his friend's eyes and knew he was speaking the truth. Jarod visibly relaxed and released a dissatisfied sigh. "I'm glad it's not you. I was starting to question my own judgment. I agree about Geoff though for different reasons but that leaves someone else I would've preferred to rule out altogether."

"Yeah, well she's definitely smart enough, and leaving the agency would hardly put a dent in her career path—any agency would jump at the chance to grab her up. Still I can't believe it of her or Jonas either. There has to be another explanation. Maybe they have us bugged? Or another surveillance team is watching what we're doing?"

"Too risky and uses too many resources. Here's the good doctor now," Jarod said the last part with a shadow of a laugh.

Geoff was skulking through the grove at high speed, trying not to trip each time he looked over his shoulder. The expression of determination was etched on his features and once he spotted his ride, all caution was thrown to the wind as the operative straightened up and sprinted towards the car.

Barney leaned over and opened the rear door as Geoff grabbed it and slid in almost in one motion. Jarod had the car moving before the door closed and headed down in a semi-rush away from the Centre and in the general direction of the motel, keeping a careful eye out for anyone following.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you two! That place was starting to feel like a prison and then Miss Parker—whew! I didn't think I would get out of there in one piece."

"What about Miss Parker?" Jarod asked calmly.

"Somehow that woman is able to see though any disguise I have on. What's weird about it is that I know for a fact, that she's had next to no contact with Thackery but the other two—Dr. Cox and Mr. Raines have been his constant cronies according to Modesty. Neither of them knew the difference. They never batted an eye when they saw me with this make up on but Parker, she barely kept her composure. All I can say Jarod is 'thanks, brother'. You saved my bacon by telling her as much as you did."

"Glad I could be of some help," Jarod smirked shaking his head in amusement while Geoff began removing the wig and makeup.


	30. Revelations

_**Author's Note:**_ I dedicate this story to my best friend and confidante. All your pain is gone now. 

**Mission Impossible  
**

**(Chapter 30 - Revelations)**

_**Trader's Inn  
Blue Cove, DE**_

Modesty stalked the small living room area where Jonas had settled in comfortably on a bar stool while keeping his weapon tirelessly trained on Miss Parker. His casual comment had thrown her into a flurry of thought and conjecture making some things clearer while making her previous assumptions seem juvenile and absurd. The only way to get to the bottom of this was to ask questions of a woman who had just been kidnapped—no easy feat.

Finally turning around, Modesty found herself looking at the formidable Miss Parker with a new perspective—one far removed from the limited category of being Jarod's mystery woman. Her piercing scrutiny drew her subject's attention, unwittingly giving Modesty an idea of what drew Jarod to the woman. Parker was tenaciously intelligent. Added to her wiliness was an undercurrent of decency that Modesty wasn't expecting. The strange part was Parker had been broken. It was probably done at a young age but like most she had been left to pick up the shattered pieces of her psyche alone. Any reshaping would have limited affects on this strong willed woman. Sadly, she had endured a type of suffering that affected her deeply, she understood it, made few if any excuses for it and kept going. Whatever had been done to Parker as a child in no way diminished her inner or outer beauty. She had developed her own type of defense mechanisms to keep others at bay—to preserve what and who she was. In a way, she bore a psychological and emotional likeness to Jarod; very similar but distinctly different. In Modesty's opinion, Jarod hadn't been broken. Instead, he had been reshaped, molded—again probably at a young age. The difference in Jarod was that he took ownership of the reshaping understanding that the stray bits of himself that hadn't been touched were up to him to restructure back into his core self. Modesty knew the analyst inside her was starting to feel protective of this damaged woman. During her psychiatric internship, she had seen the broken spirits of too many children. Often she had read the tragic childhood tales in case files that translated into the wrecked, horrific lives of the adults who had been admitted into care. Here standing before her was a cunning survivor who hadn't become a horror. An abused child that hadn't become an abuser instead she focused her abilities and used her gifts to fashion an arsenal of attributes to use to obtain the everyday mundane comforts that others took for granted - a sense of normalcy. Teamed with her intelligence, Parker's qualities made whatever she did seem over-the-top. Experience told the forensic psychiatrist that it was Parker's idea to be captured and Jonas, in an effort to raise his own status within the group had ineptly assisted.

"Do you mind if I speak to her?" Modesty asked politely.

"Not at all, but I'm not leaving you alone with her."

"What's she going to do? Return to the Centre on foot? You took her cell phone…"

"I'm not leaving you alone with her," Jonas stubbornly repeated, never taking his eyes off his captive.

Silently, Modesty nodded to herself. At least Jonas was treating Parker with some respect. Perhaps he wasn't as clueless as she originally thought—still bringing the woman here was a terrible mistake, one that Modesty doubted Jarod could easily forgive. Modesty wanted some time alone with Parker knowing the Security Director had no intentions of escaping but that was something she could never openly reveal to Jonas' tender ego. She walked over to Parker and leaned against an empty table Barney had set up to hold their computer equipment. She saw that Parker had been attentively watching the interactions between herself and Jonas. Wondering where they fit into Jarod's overall scheme.

"My name is Modesty Carter. I know your name is Parker, but what is your given name?"

"Is that your real name? The name your parents gave you or something you decided to call yourself?"

Modesty was taken aback by the lack of animosity in Parker's tone. The woman had every right to be angry; instead she spoke in an almost matter-of-fact tone of voice. The disgusted scoff from Jonas confirmed that he shared her suspicion that Parker would continue to refuse to communicate. Instead she came up with an interesting question. Most people usually asked her if she were really modest.

"It was my parent's idea and I'm both too proud and too stubborn to change it," Modesty replied with a small smile.

"My mother gave me a doosie. I don't use it for a number of reasons, mainly my father refused to call me by it and then habit. I'm named after a city—a place where my mother once told me she had been extremely happy."

"Hummm, do you keep your given name a secret from everyone? Even from those closest to you? Is it one of those few things you have left from your mother?"

Parker responded with a toothy, cynical grin. "I see there's a reason you were hanging out with Syd. You share his habit of encouraging mental masturbation from just about everyone around you." Parker noticed from the corner of her eye that Jonas' hackles rose and he was about to retort angrily but was stopped short by Modesty's open laughter.

"That's a good one I haven't heard in quite a while—mental masturbation. The Centre is definitely a strange place to work. Sydney says he stays out of habit, though his behavior seems to suggest that he has far more compelling reasons. I was wondering if you knew that you were one of those reasons."

This time it was Parker's turn to laugh, though it was much shorter and with little mirth. "I seriously doubt Freud has me on any lists of 'Reasons-I-Remain-At-The-Centre'," Parker easily countered wondering where the woman was going with the conversation.

Modesty returned Parker's smile. "He's concerned about you. He feels you work too hard and give too much to the corporation," Modesty offered. "For example, have you been suffering from any migraines lately?"

"Syd's supposed concern over my health has you asking?"

"Partly. Your stomach ulcer isn't something to take lightly. Migraines can be symptomatic of other impending problems." This was a shot in the dark, and Modesty kept her expression steady, hoping her gamble and hunch would pay some kind of dividend. She wasn't disappointed.

Parker looked down and shook her head slowly. "Syd's getting talkative in his old age. I'll have to have a word with him about that."

"Don't blame him. He's concerned and I was eavesdropping on his conversation with another man. He could be overreacting. Occasional migraines could stem from nothing more than stress and working at the Centre pretty much insures you would have that particular malady. You wouldn't have anything to worry about unless they were frequent."

The effect was immediate. Parker's eyes narrowed as she thought about the last part of Modesty's answer. "What if they were more frequent…more intense?"

"More intense? More intense migraines could indicate something serious but still your job description doesn't come with a guarantee of a good night's sleep. It's mainly when the migraine is accompanied by other, seemingly unrelated symptoms that they could mean something more….significant as the root cause. Serious illness such as stroke, brain tumor, or even an impending cerebral aneurysm could be what's waiting in the wings. But the migraine accompanied by unexplained missing time or finding yourself waking up, say in your office, when you don't recall falling asleep or even being tired, now that's a very bad sign."

Parker's complexion paled slightly as she digested this information. Modesty watched the Security Director closely and almost turned green when she saw the captive's reaction. Parker took Modesty's shock as confirmation that she could indeed be suffering from a serious ailment. Normally Parker wasn't concerned by her health but the past few weeks, the headaches, the flu and her almost split personality made her vulnerable to suggestions that otherwise she would have laughed off.

"What would you suggest be done…._if_ I had experienced any of these symptoms?"

Modesty struggled to keep herself together as she reined in her surging emotions. Part of her struggles weren't lost on Parker who was watching Modesty's face very keenly. The psychiatrist partially turned away as she answered Parker's question. "I would strongly suggest that you immediately have a MRI and a CT scan done."

"Fortunately symptoms come and go. I've never had too much trouble with headaches and even when I did, they never lasted too long."

"Still migraines are next to impossible to get rid of, what did you use on yours?"

"Old wives tales and herbal remedies, ask five different people and you get five different answers. Getting rid of a headache requires a personal touch. A good stiff drink in a dark and quiet room always works for me," Parker replied dismissively.

"That's the danger with most symptoms, patients too often dig to find out what they mean and then turn around and disregard them if they conveniently disappear; the signs fade but the underlying causes don't," Parker's last statement drew Modesty's eyes towards the messenger bag she brought back with her and the 'Emprise' file she had hidden inside.

A soft voice in Parker's head began to speak in a far-off tone. While she couldn't understand what was being said, the feeling from the voice was oddly bifurcated—partly agreeing with Modesty, and partly not. However silence reigned only for a moment before male voices were heard approaching the room and the door was thrown open. First the dark complexioned man, whom Parker saw in the back of the van, entered the room. He had advanced several steps before spotting her and stopping in his shock. This man was closely followed by Parker's former sweeper, Greg, who still had whatever goop he used as part of his silly get-up clinging to his face. Almost like a member of a comedy troop, he kept walking inside as he looked up into the eyes of his Centre boss. He stopped as he ran into the first man—his mouth hanging open in shock. Jarod brought up the rear as he gently laughed at whatever the former sweeper had said. Jarod had his head turned as he closed the door behind him. Still his instincts were excellent because Parker could tell in his body language that he knew something had gone wrong. He had drawn his weapon and was pointing it directly at her as he turned to see her standing there.

It was Jarod's reaction that Parker hungered to see. He was clearly shocked but for a fraction of a second, his tension eased when he saw it was her and a slight shadow of a welcoming smile died an immediate death as his brain fully processed what he was seeing.

"Hello, Jarod."

"What—how did you get here?" Jarod asked as his eyes took in Parker, lowered his weapon and then swiveled over to Modesty before settling on Jonas and the weapon he had trained on Parker. "What is going on?"

"I brought her here because I caught her following me. It's about time we got the whole story about this woman."

"Jarod, I need to speak to you," Modesty began, trying to get to Control before Jonas stuck his foot any further in his mouth.

Jarod heard them but ignored both as his attention focused on Parker. "Are you alright?"

Parker shrugged as Jarod stepped around Geoff and Barney to reach her. "I wouldn't suggest doing that. I haven't searched her yet."

Jarod paused as he turned slightly to stare directly at Jonas. "You brought someone you thought was hostile to this team, _here_? Without searching her? What the hell is going on here?" he asked heatedly as he turned his accusing gaze on Modesty. The answering surprised look on Modesty's face confused him as Jarod frowned thoughtfully.

"Jarod, I really need to speak to you privately," Modesty said earnestly.

"Why have you done this? Was this part of your instructions?"

It was Modesty's turn to be confused but before she could respond, Jonas spoke up for her. "It was my idea to bring Parker here. Modesty had nothing to do with this."

"It doesn't matter that I didn't know, I need to…." Modesty began haltingly.

"We all need to see this woman for who and what she is. There's nothing remotely romantic about her. She a thief and murderer. I wouldn't touch her with a 10-foot pole, that's why I didn't bother searching her. She thinks she tricked me into bringing her here. It was my intention the second I spotted her following me."

"Jonas, you have no idea of who this woman is, the training she's had or what she's capable of," Geoff said softly.

"I know all I need to know, which is to say it's a hell of a lot more than any of you. But now it's time to share," Jonas replied never taking his eyes off Parker.

Jarod listened to him with a creeping sadness. The last person he would've suspected of being the mole was Jonas. He seemed content with his part in their missions and Jarod had promised him more undercover involvement in the future. It seemed Jonas' ambitions outstripped Jarod's assurances.

"Unlike you, I prefer the stress level in the room to be at a more manageable level," Jarod replied as he approached Parker. He saw the reproach in her eyes and was immediately defensive. "Why are you blaming me for this? I had nothing to do with it. You're the one who had to follow him." Jarod reached behind Parker and removed the 9mm still holstered at the small of her back. Before stepping away, he said in a whisper, directly in her ear, "You look very lovely when you're angry."

In response, Parker clinched her jaw to prevent herself from replying. Jarod smiled at her reaction and gently brushed his lips against her cheek. Parker pushed him away half-heartedly. The smile on his face slowly faded as he turned to face his team and more importantly—the mole, Jonas. "Alright, Parker is disarmed and we're all waiting with bated breath to find out what horrors you've discovered." As he spoke, Jarod nodded to Barney and tossed Parker's weapon across the room to him. Barney caught the weapon effortlessly and stared at Jonas.

"I can't believe you went rogue because of some tidbits gleaned from a hack," Barney said sadly with a shake of the head.

"This has nothing to do with gossip. This intel is good and I didn't go rogue or hack some bureaucrat's hard drive."

"You didn't hack the agency's files for this? Then where did you obtain this exclusive information?" Modesty asked, suddenly curious. Jonas hadn't breathed a word to her of his suspicions. There were few sources that Jonas respected, much less trusted and even fewer people. She knew that Jarod had somehow gained his unquestioned loyalty—much the same as Jarod had done with her and the rest of the team. It was one of the gifts the man had that he seemed unaware that he possessed.

Jonas took a deep breath and said something he knew would jeopardize his standing in the team. "The agency supplied it."

"They gave you this information. Why? Why would they give you this information and not Jarod? ….Oh, no, you accepted didn't you? You're their mole?" Modesty asked in a small, shaky voice.

"They approached you as well?" Jarod asked coldly.

"Yes. I told them I wasn't a weak link. They tried to force me—Jarod, this is something we need to discuss at another time."

"I'm no one's mole. They were concerned because of Jarod's prior relationship with the Centre. No one knew the full extent of it and they wanted to make sure if he got in too far over his head that he could be safely extracted. When they asked about the mission timetable, I gave them what Jarod told us—what he would've already told them," Jonas said earnestly to his lover. Then turning to Jarod, he continued, "I told them that you sent someone in to get close to the Parker woman—to keep tabs on her and to try a romance angle. The weird part was someone else contacted me and asked about our inside man. I only said it was someone we had sent in to get close to her. He laughed at the suggestion and called me a liar. He had to be one of the others."

"What is this important information you have on her?" Jarod asked patiently.

"The Source? The so-called rival company that had a guy infiltrate the Centre in order to get close to Parker—she _owns_ it. She executed her own employee. The Source was her brain child over 10 years ago. She created it, built it from the ground up. She's playing both sides against the middle and will do anything to keep her position solid with the Centre. She's no better than a black widow spider. She'll seduce you into an early grave."

Jarod listened and remained silent for several long seconds. The rest of the team were shocked but waited to see what their Control's reaction would be. At last, Jarod stood up and sighed deeply. Nothing in his heart had changed, there were still bits and pieces of her life inside the Centre that he knew were hidden. The Source wasn't something that he had looked into too deeply.

"It's a little hard to believe that you're still involved with the Source. I would've thought Mr. Parker would have taken that little pearl from you," Jarod asked Parker with raised eyebrows.

"He did. The Source was a project I had spearheaded while I was in charge of Corporate security. When my father pulled me from Corporate, he sold the company for a tidy profit as a price he paid to the Triumvirate in order to keep me on point for his own pet projects. I haven't had any contact with the Source for over 8 years. That's probably why the moron I spared didn't recognize me."

"Spared? You murdered him."

Parker half laughed her contempt at his naïve statement. Looking over at Jarod she said in a voice full of disdain, "It seems you're not too fussy about your little helpers. Obviously, this one isn't too sharp. Steroids really are bad for you."

"There's also evidence that she's done it again; created another PMC that's supposed to act as the military arm of the Centre. She's poison. It's anyone's guess what she has planned for the second military contract company."

"I don't answer to you or to him, muscleman. You don't like what I do, don't look," Parker replied testily.

"Why would you need to create another PMC? The Triumvirate is dangerous enough as it is, with a PMC they would have too much power." Jarod countered with some concern in his voice. Parker rolled her eyes and remained stubbornly silent.

"Jarod, as riveting as all these revelations are, I need to speak to you—it's important."

"In a minute, Barney, release Parker. Drive her wherever she wants and then return her things…"

"No! Stop! Parker…nobody is leaving here!" Modesty shouted desperately. "Before you decide anything, Jarod, I need to speak to you. Damn it, if have to hogtie you, you're going to listen to me!"

"This had better be good," Jarod growled as he followed Modesty into the adjacent bedroom.

Once the bedroom door was closed, Modesty stalked around the room wondering where to begin. Her head was reeling from everything that seemed to happen at once. "You won't ever hear this from me again, but sometimes too much all at once can cause an information overload. What I have to say directly impacts the reason we're here in the first place. You see it all started to fall into place when Jonas surprised me by bringing Parker here at gunpoint. He said she was one of the Centre's moneymakers. The unusual part of that statement is that she's a Security Director…the PMC wrinkle explains some of that. But the salient point here is that Dr. Cox had said the same thing. When I was hiding in Thackery's old lab waiting for him to log on, Cox was speaking to Thackery about the test subjects. Then with those pieces together, I asked Parker a few questions to confirm my theory. Jarod, she's one of the test subjects!"


	31. Staccatto

**Mission Impossible**

**(Chapter 31  
Modesty's conclusion )**

_**Trader's Inn – Master bedroom Blue Cove, DE**_

Jarod slowly turned to face Modesty as his mind replayed her staccato delivered reasons for believing that Parker was the test subject they needed as evidence against Thackery. His muli-tasking intellect didn't stop at Modesty's declaration, he began to go over the symptoms they had been told to look for—still his heart refused to see the connection. "She hasn't presented with any of the key symptoms. Beyond a cold with fever, she doesn't factor in as a candidate. That's a huge leap of logic your making based on what—wordplay?"

"Think about the symptoms and apply them to her. We were given a generic list of ailments to use in order to ID the victims. You mentioned that she had a cold, Thackery never told me when he actually administered his concoction but I know when those vials had to be replaced. The timing coincides. Plus, I've just got done questioning her. Parker admits to having severe headaches, and more importantly of all—missing time. That sedative Thackery was giving the victims was some powerful stuff. It was designed to make the patients think they had just fallen asleep unexpectedly. That particular wrinkle was new in Thackery's repertoire. He had no use for it back when he was a licensed doctor experimenting on willing patients. She acknowledged to having experienced missing time."

"But she hasn't exhibited any other symptoms—the uncontrolled physical aggression followed by timidity, hypersexuality, mood swings, paranoia. Parker hasn't changed—not to that degree." The confident tone in Jarod's voice faded slowly as he thought through his assertions. There were some odd peculiarities in her recent behavior, but it had been a while since he had last seen her. The extremely unique gift she shared with Ethan could be used to explain away just about any strange behavior.

"I see you're not entirely sure how much she may or may not have changed but there is something else you should know about this experiment. My God, Jarod, this whole thing has been beyond diabolical. We all know that each person involved in this procedure has a "spotter" someone who keeps tabs on the subjects and reports back if any of the benchmark symptoms have cropped up. Well, the "spotter" has a more active role to play than we previously thought. This person becomes a kind of controller over the test subject. It's the spotter's role to find the release trigger but also to form a bond with the patient that will enable the spotter to exert their will over the patient. The trigger can be used as a means to strategically gain control and direct the test subject's aggression. When the patient has completed their mission then they can be easily eliminated by removing the spotter from their life. It's simple, neat and has its own way of tying off any inconvenient loose ends. The spotter can then be used for another subject."

Jarod listened without interruption and tried to figure out how the Centre thought they could use such a protocol and if Modesty was correct, why would they use it on Parker? For that matter, why would they use it on any Centre personnel? "What do you mean by the patient can be eliminated, neatly? Are they murdered after they've outlived their usefulness?"

"Yes and No. That's where this whole scheme turns diabolical. Thackery has never had a test subject fully complete the therapy. But that doesn't mean he didn't plan for it. This doctor is far ahead of any scientist when it came to understanding the brain's chemistry. So much so, that he was able to manipulate the _side-effects_ to produce an effective weapon against the patient—induced suicide."

"Chemically inducing suicidal tendencies while not new, it's a perversion of science that's in line with the Centre's usual repertoire." Jarod agreed grimly. "How did you find out about the spotter's expanded role?"

"Thackery had an innocuous folder sitting at the bottom of a paperwork pile. It had the word Emprise written on the front. I was wondering what kind of contingency plan he had worked out. It turned out to be something Thackery and a psychiatrist friend of his had developed in order to create plausible deniability in case they got caught."

"A gruesome brand of deniability but as far as any of this is concerned I'm still not convinced that it applies to Parker. I've been around her enough to have noticed any of the trademark aggression—which I haven't. She hasn't been any meaner than when I previously knew her. Actually, she's been a lot nicer than I've been expecting. Besides, I would've run into her spotter by now."

Modesty laughed grimly as the pieces continued to fit together in her mind—further solidifying her theory. "Well to answer your questions, the aggression only presents when the patient's trigger hasn't been activated within the prescribed timeframe or while under extreme stress. As for the spotter, I think she killed him as an act of mercy."

"The guy from the Source? You think _he_ was Parker's spotter? Why would Raines try to pressure her into killing him?"

"As you said, she's asymptomatic. He was trying to back her into an emotional corner to see what would happen. That was an enormous gamble because she could've gone completely off the rails and started shooting everyone in sight."

"We've established that Parker hasn't had any symptoms. Why are you so convinced that she's one of the test subjects?"

"_We_ haven't established anything of the sort. The information we were supplied with was dated at best. Thackery kept going on about all the improvements he had made. We only had information on the American victims and nothing about the post-exile African victims. Also, since this was a new application of his therapy, not even Thackery would know what to expect or look for if the subject was fully _responding_ to the therapy. I believe that the subject would be asymptomatic if the therapy was being followed successfully. If the Source guy was their true spotter, they would've known that he was making little to no progress with getting next to Parker. What they didn't know was that someone else already had!"

"What? You think she was going along with the therapy? Who was helping her?" Jarod asked thoroughly confused.

"You were. Parker has no idea what's been done to her but she also has no need for a spotter because you appeared out of nowhere into her life. Think about it. I don't believe in coincidence. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it now. You somehow activated the trigger or maybe Parker figured out what the trigger was and got you to activate it whenever she needed. There was at least a couple weeks when the two of you were inseparable. You said yourself, 'She was nicer than I expected.' I would be too if I found someone who could make these mysterious migraines go away."

The expressions on Jarod's face morphed from complete confusion into horrified acceptance and then finally into one that confused Modesty—loss. Like a chameleon, Jarod masked his emotions by smoothing his reaction out into complete impassivity.

"Parker is a lot of things but mostly, she's a friend. I won't turn her over to the agency. I can't do that to her."

The analyst in Modesty perked up immediately. Did he just say, 'a friend?' She was a hell of a lot more than a friend to him. Then the obvious hit her. Jarod was afraid that his old friend—the woman he fell for was merely using him to get rid of some pesky headaches.

"Jarod, she needs to be told, preferably by someone who cares about her. This is going to be a blow no matter how you phrase it to her. I won't pretend to know what she will be going through or what the hell that therapy has done to her. But if my hypothesis is true, she's finished the course of treatment. What's done is done. I do believe it's fair to say that the Centre was trying to play with her emotions in order to manipulate her actions. To what end? Heaven knows and perhaps Parker might be the only one who could guess. Don't jump to conclusions. What she feels for you is more than likely genuine."

"If she's a victim, then I'll tell her myself. You still haven't fully convinced me."

"Thackery had a phrase written in the margins of the Emprise folder along with the date. He was wondering if the medications taken for a prior ruptured stomach ulcer would interfere with his induction chemicals. I masked the question but she confirmed that she did at one time have a stomach ulcer."

Jarod closed his eyes and slowly nodded, "She almost died from peritonitis when the ulcer ruptured."

"From what you've told me, she has a fiery temper."

"Yeah, she's not going to take this well. Raines experimenting on her…she's going to want his head on a spit."

"It will be up to you to control her. You're the only one who can."

"Control her? We'll probably have to keep her kidnapped until she accepts what's been done. Otherwise, she'll do something she'll regret for the rest of her life."

"If you reject her, she'll never accept it and she'll never care about the repercussions."

"You don't know what I'm feeling or what I'll do. Don't start guessing now," Jarod retorted angrily.

"I don't know the scope or details of what you're feeling but it would make sense that you're hurt because you think she's used you to resolve her headaches. This therapy is far more delicate and complicated than that. You told us at the start of this mission that Parker was isolated – physically and emotionally. Just speaking to her now, it seems despite being wealthy, life wasn't easy for her. Whatever bond existed between the two of you prior to this experiment, it must have been rooted in affection. This is what gave you emotional access to her – not the aggression your relationship eventually morphed into."

Jarod nodded slowly and softly said, "We were friends once as kids but that was a very long time ago. A lot of interference, training and Centre indoctrination came between us, including her father."

"From everything I've read so far in Thackery's notes, this therapy plays with the victim's emotions and defenses. It exploits subconscious and sublimated vulnerabilities. So if the emotion was felt and then repressed, Thackery's little treat would root it out like a search engine. It's the foundation the Spotters need to do their part."

"Are you saying that she's repressed her love for me?" Jarod asked incredulously.

"It's a strong possibility. With the kind of restrictive relationship I'm starting to understand between Parker and her father, if she had a crush on you when she was near puberty, she would have done everything to both hide her feelings and experience them at the same time."

Jarod grinned cynically, "Exactly how long did you talk with her? How did you get Parker to tell you so much?"

Modesty smiled sadly, "you forget. I read her partially redacted psych profile, had a couple of chats with Sydney about her in addition to speaking with her. I knew the questions I needed to ask."

"Well, embarrassing as it is to admit, I think she's been trying to dump me. So her reactions are not following protocol for this therapy – big surprise. Any "spotter" would be pretty frustrated right now. I doubt accidently activating the trigger is having much impact on what's been done to her."

"Your interference with the therapy has been much more extensive than activating the trigger. When she had a cold, you got Jonas to give you those pills that have the same properties as antibiotics. Heaven knows how much that messed with Thackery's therapy. You've become intimate with her, which we both know enabled her to dispatch her spotter who bore an uncanny resemblance to a previous lover. I'll go out on a limb and say that you're relationship with her has kept Parker on an even keel but she's sharp. Parker will know the second you back away from her emotionally. She'll assume it's because of what was done to her—not unreasonable. You back away, she'll self-destruct. That was the contingency plan. Her trying to dump you is probably a knee-jerk reaction to the changes your relationship has made in her and her life; further illustrating that she has no idea what's been done. But keep this in mind, if the spotter or controller absents themselves from the test subject then the patient will experience a sudden drop in serotonin that no anti-depressant can balance."

"Give me a few minutes to think this through," Jarod responded quietly as he turned away from Modesty and leaned against the dresser drawers.

"I understand. Remember, you have a certain amount of control over this woman. You will more than likely have to exercise it in order to keep her in check."

"I have no idea what the trigger is or how I've been activating it."

"The trigger issue was a tool that remains valid only until her body is able to neutralize and then flush the induction chemicals from her system. The control is something else—part of the therapy. It's up to you to figure out a way to reach her and control her actions. We have no idea if an expiration date was built in for that."

_**Trader's Inn – Living room Blue Cove, DE**_

The four left in the room listened to the muted sounds of Modesty and Jarod's conversation. Nothing could be understood but each strained to catch a word of phrase to no avail. Finally, Geoff looked over at Jonas who never wavered in his vigilance of Miss Parker. "What made you think you should bring her back here? We could've discussed this as a team."

"You heard her response. Without her, then it's just my word."

"I hate to break it to you, buddy, but if you happened to get a look at him, you're revelation didn't faze him a bit. He's dating the Security Director of the Centre. Eliminating a former employee while extreme isn't that much of a leap. You jeopardized too much for too little," Barney responded with a shake of the head.

"Probably right but I thought it was worth it. She's poison and I'll do whatever I can to keep this toxin from ruining his life."

"It's his life and I kinda liked working for her. Fairly good boss overall, but that Michael character, geez Miss Parker you really should get rid of that guy." Geoff said with a lift of the brows.

"What's wrong with Michael? At least he wasn't pretending to be loyal. "

"True, still he was clingy. Remy had a time keeping that guy in check."

"I'll keep that in mind." Parker frowned thoughtfully and said with a note of regret lightly lacing her words, "You were very promising. I had some special plans in the works for you."

"Really? What plans?" the agent asked suddenly. His genuine interest caused both Barney and Jonas to look at him surprised. Jonas looked away in utter disgust.

"You're just going keep on chatting with her like its old home week? Haven't you heard a word I've been saying?" Jonas asked with frustrated confusion.

"My first assignment with Miss Parker involved this little worm who kept trying to break into the Centre's servers. He was one of those hacker types who steal identities and run up bills. I thought she was going to have us kill the guy, instead, she fried his systems—hopefully that taught him a lesson. I was there when the Source guy was shot. As I recall it was Sam who pulled the trigger, not Parker. She didn't even twitch her nose, he just did it. Come to think of it, if I knew what that ghoul was planning on doing to the poor slob or the history behind the blackmail, I can't say for certain that I wouldn't have done the same thing."

"I'm trying to keep this team together. When the agency began to voice their reservations about Jarod's leadership, I thought it would be best to get rid of her before this situation spun out of control."

"You thought bringing her here and getting Jarod's woman to admit to her crimes would somehow work like a cold dash of water in the face? Jarod would wake up, see her in the same light as the agency cast her in your eyes and he would break off the relationship," Barney asked softly. He had never shared with anyone what Jarod had disclosed—Parker was an unrequited love he had since he was a teenager.

"You put it like that and it sounds flimsy. You know him best, is this going to work? Or is he going to ignore the warning?" Jonas asked with fading hopes.

"There are some variables that you're unaware exists. Based on what you were able to give us…no, it won't make a dent."

The defeated look on Jonas' face convinced Geoff that his fellow agent had truly been convinced that all that was needed was some shock therapy. It seemed inevitable that the team dynamic was about to be seriously damaged but not from anything Jonas had done. "The agency is never happy when a team works too well together. They tend to get nervous that if one person is removed the team is unable to function effectively. To test their theory, they usually will throw in a curve ball to see how the group functions. Admitting to Jarod that you became a mole in order to protect him? Now that is definitely a twisted wrinkle. Let's see how he deals with it," Geoff said with a cynical, Gaelic shrug.

Modesty suddenly opened the bedroom door, slipped out and immediately closed the door behind her, as though shielding the remaining occupant in the room. She looked over at Parker and said softly, "Jarod needs to have a word with you."

"What's going on?" Jonas asked with sudden curiosity.

Modesty ignored Jonas' question and nodding to Parker waited for the woman to move towards the door. When Jonas started to protest, Modesty said, "Don't interfere, Jonas."

When Parker entered the room and closed the door behind her, Modesty looked at her co-workers and released a shaky breath as she dropped her bombshell. "Parker's one of the test subjects."


	32. Tsunami

A/N: I apologize for the lengthy delay in posting this update. Many things have occurred which have proven to be obstacles.

**Mission Impossible**

**(Chapter 32  
****Jarod's revelation)**

_**Trader's Inn – Master bedroom  
**__**Blue Cove, DE**_

Parker entered the room knowing that whatever Jarod had to say would more than likely change her life. The look on the shrink's face said as much. Jarod's tense posture confirmed her assumption.

"Muscles is getting quite the dressing down from his comrades. He thought he was doing you a favor by trying to save you from poisonous little me," Parker began in a lighter tone. She knew getting on Jarod's case about one of his morons kidnapping her was the wrong approach. For a few seconds she wondered how she knew this but stilled her mind as the voices began to chatter in the background of her consciousness. "You look like a boy whose best friend was packed off to boarding school unexpectedly. I know because being packed off gave me the same expression. What's going on Jarod? Talk to me."

"Do you realize how rare it is to hear you acknowledge that we were once best friends? When you were sent away, that was a dark time for me—very dark. You meant more to me than even I thought possible. When you returned and treated me like I was a servant who forgot his place, I can't tell you how angry that made me."

"I thought returning was my one chance to earn my father's approval. Nothing and no one was going to get in the way of that. He was the only constant I was allowed to have in my life. My mother was taken from me, Faith died, and then we were separated. Seeing you again only reminded me of how vulnerable I could be. Acknowledging our friendship would mean admitting to the feelings I always had for you—that was something I could never do, not while _he_ was alive. He was always watching me, judging, looking for any indication of feelings that I might have for you. It would've been a sign of weakness."

Jarod nodded solemnly and said, "He was very greedy. His greed extended to anything within his realm of influence—including and especially you."

The room was silent for several seconds before Jarod spoke again. "What I have to say won't be easy for you to accept but I won't let you hear this from anyone else. I want you to know that I won't let you go. I will always be here for you, regardless."

Parker swallowed the large knot that grew inexplicably in her throat. "It's as bad as that. Just tell me and be done with it."

Jarod breathed deeply, attempting to calm the raging emotions swirling through his being and preventing him from adopting any semblance of objectivity. Finally he looked up and making eye contact, he briefly reminded her of the reason he was there and then systematically told her the sequence of events that led to the conclusion that she was the latest test subject in Thackery's experimentation. Parker interrupted only twice, once to challenge the supposition that she was one of the Centre's moneymakers—this reference could apply to others and the last with a choking sob when Jarod pointed out what Thackery had written in one of the project files about the principal test subject having suffered from a ruptured stomach ulcer and the date of the incident.

Parker backed away as she recalled how studiously the doctor avoided speaking to her. But whenever she was stuck in one of those numerous Tower meetings, she could feel him staring at her when he accompanied Raines in stonewalling the board with his half-answers and arrogant self-assurance. Almost without conscious thought, Parker allowed herself to listen to the voices—usually so cryptic, now being almost explicit in their concurrence with Jarod's conclusion.

"What was the course of this so-called treatment? What did they do to me, exactly?"

"We're not quite sure what their goals were…."

"Leave the goals for now, Jarod! What exactly did they _do_ to me?!"

"After they rendered you unconscious, Thackery would have injected you with the induction chemicals," Jarod replied. At Parker's confused expression, he continued, "It's the induction chemicals that we know the least about. What I do know is that there was a progressive series of injections. Each exposure had to include a carrier molecule called a vector that's used to deliver the therapeutic gene to the patient's target cells. Currently, the most common vector is a virus that has been genetically altered to carry normal human DNA. Viruses have evolved a way of encapsulating and delivering their genes to human cells in a pathogenic manner."

"You're saying they _infected_ me with some mutated virus? That's the reason I was sick a few weeks ago?"

"Essentially, yes but it's more complicated and involved than that. They were subjecting you to a highly experimental gene therapy. The induction chemicals that had been created had their own uses and their effects are extremely dangerous. From what I could find of the paperwork, the first phases of the therapy were the cause of most if not all of the side-effects. They worked well releasing their payload into the target cells, but the side-effects were aimed mainly at the hypothalamus."

"What the hell does that mean? Stop dancing around and tell me what did they do?"

"I'm trying to tell you that I'm not sure. I only have pieces of the research paperwork. There is a list of side-effects based on the induction chemicals alone—but that research is practically out of date because the doctor who created it kept updating and changing the chemicals he was using. From what we know so far, headaches, nausea, irrational aggression, insomnia and paranoia are the key symptoms. They used two different methods of delivery. The one I described was the nastier one. The Centre knew about the side-effects but they had to have insisted on its use."

"So the main reason for them experimenting on me was to have me feel ill, paranoid and aggressive? Raines is a lot of things but his sense of preservation is the best I've seen. The last person he would want feeling paranoid and aggressive is me. I might have taken him out in one of the corridors for no reason other than his oxygen tank has an extremely irritating squeak."

"From what Modesty was able to discover, not even Thackery knows what to look for in order to determine if the therapy was working. The Centre's application of the doctor's treatment was unusual. Cox was supposed to figure out which symptoms were benchmark signs of success but according to his files, he's been against this project from the start. And from the way he's been acting, he doesn't believe it's too much of a success. It sounds as if even Cox is positioning himself away from Raines in case this whole farce blows up in his face."

Parker stared at Jarod as he tried to puzzle out the motivations and reasons two high-level executives at the Centre chose to use such a powerful colleague as a guinea pig. At the back of her mind, Parker could hear her mother's voice advising caution and calmness. To Jarod, Parker appeared to be taking the news quite well. What was really happening inside Parker resembled a tsunami effect. The tide of emotion had retreated from her face and posture. The wall of emotion hadn't left, instead it merged with the suppressed hatred and anger she felt towards the Centre, Raines and her father for leaving her alone and unprotected.

Without warning, Parker threw open the bedroom door and stormed out. White hot fury suffused her features as she stood across the room from Barney. "Give me my weapon," she said with a deceptively quiet voice. The four operatives in the room could see that this situation had already gone sideways.

Without answering, Barney looked beyond Parker to Jarod who paused for a second before nodding to his colleague to return the weapon. There was no reason for Barney to be the surrogate target of Parker's fury.

"Killing him isn't the answer, Parker," Jarod said sternly. He glanced at Modesty, hoping she was right and that he had some control over Parker.

"It's the only answer—one that hasn't been given in a long time and is way overdue!" Parker bellowed. Barney, who had been fidgeting while waiting for Parker and Jarod to return, had completely disassembled the 9mm weapon. He placed the various parts and pieces on the table.

"There's something far more important now. We need to figure out a way to help you through this. Try to anticipate any unknown side-effects and to minimize any damage done."

"The time for hand-wringing is over. That evil, stinking gangrene who calls himself Chairman is about to get what's coming." Parker replied in a voice trembling with a focused rage that allowed her to reassemble her 9mm quickly and without looking at it. Jonas stared incredulously at Parker's overly adroit sureness with the weapon.

"And you're willing to throw your life away for what, a moment's revenge? Believe me, I know how you feel but killing him isn't going to take away the pain," Jarod pleaded but seeing his words were falling on deaf ears. He tried again, "Raines has done the same thing to me. Nothing changes because it was done to you. The same obstacles exist for you as they did for me. Living—that's the only way to move on. It's the best revenge."

"I'm ending what none of us has been willing to end! That ghoul's had me in his sights for too long. It's time for me to finish this and pull the trigger, only it's going to be his face that explodes."

"Do this and you will only prove you're one of them and that they were right all along. You're better than that!"

"Don't you get it?! I'm not better than them. I _am_ one of them, Jarod. Muscles was guessing right for once. Nothing you say, no spin or euphuism is going to change that." Parker replied as she moved towards the door.

Jarod moved directly in her path. "If you were one of them, Raines wouldn't be so afraid of you. Nothing you do will ever come close to what he deserves. Shooting him is too easy an out. Acting the way you are now, you won't get a chance to do anything. His sweepers will stop you before you get to his office."

"**GET—OUT—OF—MY—WAY**!" Parker screamed hysterically.

"You're what _I_ need. I'm not about to lose you over someone who isn't worth the price of the bullet," Jarod said with equal anger. "The only way out of here is through me and I'm willing to fight for what I want. Is Raines really worth _any_ effort? Because I know for a fact that you are."

The steely anger in his eyes coupled with his words had the same effect as hot lava hitting a frigid ocean wave. Parker blinked and stared at him in her shock. Her mind was still enveloped in a patina of livid anger but Jarod's willingness to physically fight her allowed Parker a chance to think—and stopped her in her tracks. However the residual chemicals that were still in her brain announced their presence with a sudden, sweat-inducing band of pain that radiated throughout her skull.

Jarod was the first to her aid, as Parker's knees buckled and her shaking hands framed her temples. Her finger remained laced through the trigger guard of the weapon as Jarod almost bodily carried her to a nearby chair. Jarod's team gathered around, Barney with a hurried glass of water at the ready. Everyone heard his declaration that he too had been a victim of Raines' experiments. They also got their first taste of Parker's extreme aggression—the same symptom that Raines was trying to goad out of her. The almost physical presence of her violence quickly dissipated after Jarod offered to fight her for the right to leave. Each team member noted that at no time did Parker point her weapon at Jarod. She never threatened him in either word or action. Jarod had gained control.

"You promised to leave and not look back," Parker said tightly as she slowly breathed through the pain and regained her equilibrium. Her mind was working at a rev she didn't know existed.

"That was something else I needed to discuss with you. I wanted to apologize for not keeping that promise. Try to sit still and calm down," he replied with his own tempered fury. This was the first time he knowingly experienced one of Thackery's symptoms up close. The impact of realizing the extent of what they had done to her made Jarod want to take her weapon and do the very thing he had been trying to prevent her from doing.

"I thought violence was a way to calm the headaches, not induce them," Barney stated questioningly to Modesty.

"This is a very, ummm _elegant_ therapy. What I mean is that the symptoms are well thought out and for the most part anticipated; if the 'patient' doesn't receive the trigger, then violence will help ease the pain. However, if the patient has been receiving the trigger on a consistent basis, then the opposite is true—violence, extreme anger, or aggression induces the headaches, begetting more of the same to subdue the pain. The Centre had to be looking for a means of control on some level. This way, that control is maintained and the patient is locked into a cycle of violence."

"You said that Parker had completed the therapy, why is she still being affected?" Geoff asked softly, keeping his voice modulated so he wouldn't further irritate his Centre boss.

"No, I said I thought…. Nevermind. Yes, I suspect she's physically achieved the goal of the therapy but she hasn't received all the injections—which is probably a good thing. We've grossly interfered with the prescribed course of treatment; from Jonas' immune boosters all the way through to that long weekend away and missing the last injection Thackery had me prepare."

"So how long will she have to put up with the headaches? Won't they dissipate?" Barney asked quietly.

"They should dissipate but this experimental therapy involved not just restructured genomes but chemical vectors," Modesty answered softly, mimicking Geoff's softer tone.

"As with any chemical, it will take a while for her body to completely flush them from her system," Jonas replied softly. "So in the meantime these occasional bouts of violence and crippling migraines will occur."

Finally Parker leaned forward and closed her eyes. She reached over and dropped the weapon on the nearby table. The anger in her mind had only been blunted, it still raged violently. "Raines has damaged, murdered, maimed and harmed more people than anyone in the Centre."

"It's more or less a toss up between Mr. Parker and Raines. One planned, ordered and sanctioned the mayhem while the other enthusiastically carried it out. But you're right about Raines not being allowed to continue with this so-called experimentation. There's at least one but possibly more who have been exposed to this therapy."

Parker suddenly became very still, her imagination quickly shifting through possible scenarios like a bored relative looking through vacation photos of parking lots and strangers. Then without warning a light shined brightly and a scenario played out in her mind showing her the other victim and who was responsible—suddenly a possibility occurred to her and the way to quench her thirst for revenge for herself, her mother, brothers, Jarod, his family and all the others whose lives Raines had so horribly affected. Delicacy was needed to pull this off and Parker knew she would have to work Jarod in order to have a chance at success.

"What time is it?" she asked roughly, not bothering to look at Jarod.

"It's fifteen-eighteen. Why?" Barney immediately answered.

"I'm going to be late for a meeting. If I don't show up, call, email or text, Remy will begin to worry and try to track me. Now, I can just sit here and wait for them to come get me but I doubt you would want to be hanging around when they arrive."

"How would they track her?" Barney asked but this time looking at Geoff for confirmation.

Jarod answered for him. "She has a tracking device either embeded somewhere on her person or in her personal effects." His voice was even but his demeanor changed. He knew Parker was up to something, why would she _remind_ him that she had a tracker? "What do you want? Leaving you here alone to wait for your posse isn't going to happen. You're coming with us. Where's the tracker?" Jarod demanded. He knew he had some control over her actions but he was also under the distinct impression that the control was very limited. No wonder the Centre chose to use a sledgehammer to keep their subjects in line.

Parker gave him a half smile. "I would prefer you keep your promise but since it's obvious you have no intention of doing so and heaven help me, I don't want Raines finding out you're here, I'll cooperate." While she spoke, Parker began disassembling her weapon. She removed the ammo clip and checking inside, removed a small, intricately lined cellophane–like strip. "I'd rather kill myself than let either that ghoul or his henchman get close enough to put their equivalent of an electronic dog leash inside of me."

"Didn't think of that one either, eh Muscles?" Geoff spoke directly to Jonas who was looking both shocked and chagrined. Turning to Jarod he said, "She had standing orders that if we hadn't heard from her in 2 hours then begin the trace. We were allowed to only try twice to reach her in case she had been kidnapped. I'm not sure how long she's been away but my gut says we're getting very close to the deadline."

"What if we simply destroy the chip? They can worry and search all they want but if they can't get a signal from the chip then they're searching blind." Jonas suggested desperately to Jarod.

Barney had gingerly picked up the strip and was staring intently at it when he answered Jonas. "It looks like it has a viability matrix built in; the chip inside is encased in a tough alloy—very hard to destroy quickly. In the time it took you to kill it, the thing will be able to transmit a surge so loud anyone monitoring would be able pinpoint its last position—even if they were half a world away."

Jarod nodded solomnly. "Not enough time for us to get beyond the Centre's perimeter. Those annexes have many other uses, one of which is to quickly set up roadblocks and checkpoints to make it extremely difficult for anyone to successfully run away." Turning to Parker he asked, "Who do you intend to call?"

"There's a specific number I need to call to make my team stand down."

Jarod tossed Parker her cell phone. "Go ahead and call them but put it on speaker phone."

"I hate speaker phones and my team knows it. If I do that, they'll know something's wrong."

Jarod glanced over at Geoff who shrugged. "Hating speaker phones? Yeah, she did say that. So if she called in that way—I know _I _would be suspicious and I was a lowly level 3 sweeper."

_**The Centre  
**__**Level 7**_

_**Export Compliance Review Board Meeting**_

The Chairman had sat through most of the meeting before abruptly getting up and leaving in the middle of a presentation. Listening to the Director of Operations drone on about the importance of keeping up with each country's changing demand for government forms, export contacts and bribery or "financial requisition" was akin to listening to paint dry. As the squeaky sounds of Raines' oxygen tank began to fade, the Operations Director was careful to give the remaining board members a steely warning look. The Chairman was free to go, but no one else had that sort of latitude. A restless shuffle reverberated throughout the room as at least a dozen rear ends readjusted themselves in an effort to remain alert-looking.

It was during the second half of the meeting when things began to get strange. Someone's cell phone began to ring incessantly. Everyone looked at each other. They all knew better than to leave their phones on and to make sure they avoided any slip-ups, most had went so far as to leave their cell phones in their offices—for safe keeping. Finally all eyes faced the end of the boardroom table to stare at their Operations Director. He looked disconcerted for a moment before lifting the phone, and staring at the display for a full 5 seconds. With a puzzled frown, he was about to replace the device in his suit pocket when he thought twice about it and unceremoniously answered the phone, "What?"

His expression went blank for several seconds as the blood slowly seeped from his face. Understanding, revelation and purpose filled his countenance before he answered woodenly, "Are you sure?" After a short pause he replied soullessly, "Thank you. I know what needs to be done." Turning to his audience he said with a sigh, "This meeting is adjourned. We'll pick this up again later. An email will be sent out informing you of the particulars." With that the Director left the meeting and walked with a steady and unhurried pace towards his office.


	33. Calls

**A/N: **My sincerest apologies for any who are still looking for updates to this story. Some life changing events have really thrown me and it's been quite a while since I've had my head straight enough to update. For any who are still reading this - thank you for your patience! 

**Mission Impossible**

**(Chapter 33 ****..Be careful what you create..)**

_**Trader's Inn  
**__**Blue Cove, DE**_

"Who did you call?"

"I don't see how that matters. I've made a call into the Centre. My assistant knows and should be pacified for a bit."

"'_You were right. Both are affected. It was the same person who took her voice from you. Listen to your nastier angel and do what we discussed.'_ Who were you talking to?" Jarod demanded with a sudden sinking feeling as the answer came to him.

"You know who I was talking to, the other "guinea pig" involved in this _experiment_," Parker replied with anger in her voice but she avoided looking directly into Jarod's eyes.

Hope rimmed Modesty's voice as she stepped forward, "You know who the other victim is? Tell us so we can work on getting that person out as well. Perhaps we can figure out what they wanted and why the two of you were chosen."

Parker huffed a mirthless laugh and said in a flat voice. "I already know what they wanted, why they used the nastier methods and what they were looking for in our reactions."

"How?" Modesty asked immediately.

"Because it's part of the Centre's MO. Because they've done things like this before. Because I know what he's really after and because I know who the other victim is," Parker replied finally looking up with the most exhausted expression Modesty had seen in a very long time.

"The Centre has always been fascinated by twins," Jarod answered with a slow shake of the head.

"Identical twins are ideal but fraternal twins will do in a pinch. You see, Femme Freud, they wanted to try their Frankenstein therapy on me and my twin brother."

"On Lyle? Are they nuts? Cause I know for a fact that guy is a bona fide wacko," Geoff replied with feeling as he unconsciously rubbed his still mending arm.

"Part of what's making my horrible twin even crazier is this therapy. The extreme aggression you were told to look for was in Lyle. He's a sociopath from start to finish but Lyle is too scheming and calculated to start acting this unfocused and frenzied without a damn good reason."

"What would be the goal of involving someone with such a severe form of antisocial personality disorder in this therapy? The risks would be too high," Modesty countered with an expression every bit as horrified as the thoughts running through her mind.

"They wanted Parker. Lyle was a control subject. A baseline if you will of what she should be going through," Jarod said never taking his eyes off Parker's face. "You sent your brother to do what you couldn't."

"You won't let me go and I can't let Raines off. Let him escape. This madness has to stop. He's beyond the reach of conventional law enforcement—the very thought is a joke. I can name at least half of the G8 governments that would allow him immediate asylum with a mere phone call."

"So Lyle is supposed to kill Raines?! For you? As revenge?!" Jarod was livid.

"Not just me, for us all of us—the living as well as the dead. Every Red File who was tested, experimented on, twisted, imprisoned and then murdered. There are so few of us left now and he won't be satisfied till he sees every last one of us dead, including you, Jarod. He hates you most off all. This madness, his obsession has to stop and the only way to do that is to put him down before this escallates into something we'll never be able to stop in time. It's fitting justice, Lyle was his most successful test subject after all."

"You do this, you're no better than him," Jarod replied sadly.

"I've already told you that I am one of them," Parker retorted, still averting her gaze from his. Allowing Jarod to believe she was sending Lyle to do what she couldn't would sever whatever feelings he had for her, she knew but it had to be done. He would move on, live his life—without her. Parker pushed aside the thought for now. She would deal with it when the time came. As for Raines, Parker was sure her mother's voice would be the only thing sparing his miserable life. "As your Femme Freud would put it—it's an 'elegant' solution. Raines took our brothers, Jarod and twisted them into something unrecognizable. Your brother was at least able to hang on to some part of his decency. As a macabre experiment, Raines turned my brother into a serial killer. I'm making sure that old ghoul gets a taste of his own medicine."

"How can you be so sure Raines targeted your brother? Maybe he's moved on from the twin obsession. He could've been only experimenting on you," Jonas concluded pointedly.

Parker looked at Jonas without answering.

"Do you have any proof that Lyle was involved in the therapy? Anything conclusive?" Barney asked curiously.

"Greg's arm, Michael's broken ribs and concussion should be enough. However, Lyle did ask me to do something for him. Something peculiar in the same way that our mother would have done," Parker replied.

"Lyle was taken from your mother at birth. How would he know anything about her or how she did anything?" Jarod asked still staring at Parker.

"My point exactly. He rarely mentions our mother and from his tone and demeanor, I knew something was wrong. This therapy explains it." Finally looking directly into Jarod's complicated expression she added, "Tell Ethan I'll miss him."

"What are we going to do? How can we stop the assassination?" Barney asked Jarod urgently.

Jarod's eyes remained locked on Parker's for several long seconds before he looked away and walked over to the window to stare out at the fading day. His thoughts were in a jumble, his emotions spent and vacillating. Morally, he should charge into the Centre and attempt to save Raines from Lyle's madness. A madness brought on by the Chairman's over-wrought ambitions and mindless need to treat everyone as an expendable commodity. Only this time Jarod paused. Kyle's ghost floated in his mind's eye. Raines had hurt Parker and had hurt her in a way that was quite probable never to be reversed. Something deep inside of him demanded something different; it was time to put the Centre behind them, to move on with their lives.

"Jarod what should we do? How do we get into the Centre and save someone who probably shouldn't be saved?" Jonas asked.

"We don't. Saving Raines is too risky and completely off our mission profile. Let the other team worry about that. It's time for us to pack our things and get out as quickly as possible. Our work here is done."

The team looked at one another and then without exchanging a word, Barney and Geoff moved into action, collecting the last of their equipment and began stacking it next to the door to be loaded into the van.

"I need to make another call," Parker said slowly. Too much time had passed already.

This declaration made everyone pause and look at her. Jarod took a deep breath, his mind was whirling as he thought through Parker's conclusions, her reasoning and the guile it took to get Lyle to do what she wanted. His heart began to thud harder as he came to another realization. Raines had success with one twin, it wasn't unreasonable that he was successful in altering the other as well.

"Not this time. You've proven that I can't trust you."

"Have I? ...Really?" Parker asked with raised eyebrows. Speaking to Jarod helped keep the despair growing in the pit of her stomach from spreading too quickly throughout her being. "What assurances did I betray? I will say that my phone call was recorded and my assistant has been advised of it. No one's searching for me."

"Who do you want to contact?" Jarod asked with narrowed eyes.

With perfect insouciance Parker answered, "Remy. I need to tell him to back up Lyle so the idiot doesn't get himself killed. You were concerned about a possible blood bath, weren't you?"

"Why? What else do you plan on telling him?"

"Nothing more; no codes, no warnings or secret messages. I don't want psycho sibling's death on my hands. I couldn't manage to assassinate him for my father and I see no reason why he shouldn't survive Raines."

Jarod stared at her for several long seconds before replying, "I see no reason why either monster should survive. Any bloodbath among Centre executives would amount to a corporate shakeup anywhere else. You're going to have to give me more than that if you want to save his life."

"You're destroying my pristine image of you, Jarod. I always thought of you as the consummate philanthropist. What do you want from me?" Parker said quietly, her eyes locked with his.

"Answers. Once you realized that Raines chose you because of your twin, everything seemed to fall into place. I still have pieces that don't make any sense."

"Is that _all_ you want?" She asked without changing expression.

Jarod blushed faintly and replied with a ghost of a smile, "for now." He retained eye contact with her and realized that within the depth of her stare was his answer. Jarod averted his gaze and asked anyway. "Did it work?"

"Why do you ask questions you already have the answers to?"

"I was wondering if you would be honest about it."

"Raines didn't "choose" me only because of Lyle. He chose us because we couldn't suppress the qualities that made us Red Files. I'm not a doctor, Jarod." Parker sighed and paused looking down—her mind still racing. When she looked up, Jarod's team were all staring at her questioningly. "I think so. I feel _different_ but that could just be my imagination."

"Different how? Are you in any pain?"

"Not like you're thinking. My brain keeps on spinning as if there isn't a pause button in my mind to slow things down. The weird part is that the second I get used to the speed, everything kicks into a higher gear. Do you have any aspirin? This headache is brutal."

Geoff shook out some prescription strength ibuprofen in his outstretched hand, while Jonas did the same with 2 of his immune enhancers. Parker looked up in surprise at Jonas and quickly took the pills before the voices could start advising her to do so but then she turned to Geoff and grabbed his ibuprofen. In one fell swoop, she swallowed all 4 pills and chased them with the water Barney had brought earlier.

"Why don't you sit down for a minute?" Jarod asked in the gentlest of tones.

"Resting doesn't help. Nothing does or…well…" she vaguely waved her hand to indicate her unspoken exception.

"The trigger really makes the headaches go away, completely?"

Parker hesitated for a beat before quietly replying "Yes," and then walked over to the window. "Why did you change your MO? We were great as enemies," she said with a rueful smile.

"We were lousy enemies. We could never dredge up enough hate for one another to be any good at it."

"It was better than what we have now! Saying goodbye was never an issue before," Parker replied getting irritated as her suppressed rage began to bubble to the surface.

Jarod perched himself on the corner of the couch and looking at her intently, he realized she must already know how he felt about her. Becoming intimate with Parker forced him to face something that apparently was obvious to everyone else. Parker had finally become a detail he could no longer ignore. To say things had changed drastically between them would be a gross understatement. Besides she was in danger and if anyone in the Centre figured out that the therapy worked on her….he didn't have a choice and the therapy merely gave him a plausible cover excuse to renege on the promise he never had any intentions of honoring. But, there was something that had been bothering him for several days that the gene therapy could explain away. Jarod wanted to test his theory.

"I prefer you as a lover instead of an enemy. Besides, it was you who started this," Jarod replied with an intentionally smug smile. He believed he had perceived at least an outline of her Pretender talent. With so many changes, the headache, the voices, revelations and intrigues going on could she 'read' him well enough to know what he meant with this extremely vague reference?

Parker paused and then looked over at him, ready with a contradiction. Then when their gaze met, she sighed softly and rolled her eyes. "My God Jarod, we were kids. I honestly thought you had forgotten about it. I was just an impulsive 13 year old," Parker replied with a touch of irritation.

A brilliant smile lit his face when he realized she had passed his small test. "You were eleven and precocious. And I'll never forget it."

"You've got to be kidding me. You two have known each other since you were _eleven_?" Geoff asked incredulously.

"Since I was eleven, Mr. Know-it-All was older." Parker walked over to Jarod and stood in front of him. "Let me call the Centre. I won't betray you." Jarod handed her his phone and watched while she dialed and then waited for a response.

"Remy, go to the Chairman's office with a full retinue and take only level 1 Sweepers. My idiot sibling is caught in the middle of a boondoggle in trying to arrest the Chairman. Back him up and if the troll is still alive-detain Raines. Maximum security. Lyle has the proof he needs for the board to take matters from there."

Parker listened for several seconds while gently placing her hand on Jarod's shoulder and then answered in a sharper tone, "I'm abstaining since the board already knows what I want done. They like to pretend they're being objective—let them, I'm bowing out of this round." Again Parker listened but irritably interrupted, "I'm fine. Next, search that hack Thackery's lab and quarters and pull all the paperwork from his safes, and then present it to the Tower. When I return, I can finally have the pleasure of saying, 'I told you so'". Before Remy could utter another syllable, Parker disconnected the call.

"That should take him about 45 minutes to an hour to complete. You have to be gone by then." Parker tossed the phone on the couch and placed that hand on Jarod's other shoulder, and then stood looking into his eyes. Without saying a word, she gently touched his face, softly caressing his features with her fingertips as though committing every contour to memory and then bowed her head bringing her face to his neck and encircling his body in a loose embrace. Jarod gently placed a hand on her small waist and lifted his head to her neck. Slowly he breathed her in, mentally separating her perfume from her personal scent. The curtain of her hair helped to shield his expression from the others in the room. Parker gently moved and slipped in a small kiss before moving away expectantly.

Jarod said nothing as he continued to stare at her. She was either ignoring what her intuition was telling her or had something else up her sleeve; so he decided to wait her out, not bothering to move a muscle.

"Why are you and your morons just standing around and staring at me? Leave! I'm used to sorting out your messes. This won't be any different," Parker said with increasing agitation as the pain of her headache intensified.

"Not without you," Jarod replied quietly.

"This is the way it has to be, Jarod. The way it's always been. We don't have time to argue so let me simplify it for you: I belong here and you never did."

Jarod looked at her incredulously, "that sort of logic merely invites argument." Looking around at his team he said to them, "We have to move however there are a few details we need to settle before we leave," Jarod said aloud to the group. The tension that was present in the room after Parker's hysterical outburst returned and then ratcheted up a few notches. "I am asking for a favor here. I don't want any mention of Parker, Mr. Lyle or what they did to the Chairman to show up in our reports. We never found out who the test subjects were but Dr. Thackery had been successfully extracted from the Centre. Can I trust everyone to do this?" Jarod looked to each member of his team as they all nodded in their assent to his request. Jarod's eyes rested on the mole solemnly.

"My report will end with my honest conclusion that this op was handled with the same skill as all the others and there is nothing there for them to worry about. I won't mention anything about me making a complete fool of myself."

"And trying to save Control's virtue from a wonton Security Director," Geoff added softly, with a smile.

Jarod chuckled and Parker rolled her eyes in disbelief as she stepped towards the outer perimeter of Jarod's team. This was his show and what she came to see.

"You're not the first to underestimate Parker and I'm sure you won't be the last."

"Jarod what exactly are these "Red Files?" Modesty asked trying to divert Jarod's attention from the mistakes of her lover.

"It was an old project that is better left in the past. There isn't anything that can be done about it now. Jonas…"

Distress was in his face and posture as Jonas interrupted stiffly and replied, "I'm sorry, Jarod. They just hung out the bait and waited for me to make a fool out of myself. It would be best for all concerned for me to leave."

"That isn't necessary…"

"Yes it is. They found the weak link and it was me. A team is only as strong as its weakest link. I'll tell them the truth—that I've been compromised and will refocus my ambitions elsewhere."

Jarod stared at his muscular computer specialist with a frown but said nothing further. Barney, who was surreptitiously peeking outside the motel room window, said in an even voice, "We have a situation evolving outside, possibly to our advantage. There's a growing crowd of tourists gathering out front. We could possibly use them as cover."

"The best course of action is to leave Miss Parker here alone to wait for her sweepers. I can give her a superficial cut to the scalp to make it appear as though she had been knocked unconscious," Geoff answered slowly. The expression on Jarod's face confirmed Geoff's notion that Jarod was determined to have Parker leave with them.

That same steely expression in Jarod's eye prompted Barney to add while looking over at Parker "If the Security Director, sorry _Managing_ Director goes missing at the same time we wrap things up here there will be questions. Worse—an official inquiry because it will be obvious that we took her. The Secretary will want answers."

"All of you leave. Be sure to use our established protocols to avoid detection. Miss Parker and I have a few things we need to discuss in private," Jarod said with a note of finality.

"What about you? You can't stay here anymore than any of us!" Modesty protested.

"This operation is over. It was a success and it's time for all of you to get to safety. That's an order," Jarod stated angrily.

The room was quiet as each operative thought through their own options. Jonas was the first to break the silence. "If I hadn't brought Miss Parker here in the first place, we wouldn't have this dilemma. I'm staying and since I've pretty much handed in my resignation, you don't have a lot of say in the matter. I'll do what I can to hold off her goons but it would help if you could make that a quick chat." Jonas walked over to a large steamer trunk and began unpacking weapons.

Modesty groaned aloud, while Barney began nodding in agreement. "You're going to need some help with that. I can take the tracking strip and drive it some distance before planting it on a bus or something. That ought to buy us some more time."

"Sweepers aren't too bright but Remy is. He'll want to search the area where the tracker was stationary the longest. I'll do what I can to get the tourists out of the way before the Centre team arrives. Maybe I can rig some of those explosives to slow things down a bit." Geoff stated.

"Before any or all of you start blowing up my people, I have a far simpler solution. I'll return to the Centre."

"No!" both Jarod and Geoff practically yelled at her. They looked over at each other a bit surprised that their reactions were identical.

"I got a first-hand taste of what this so-called "treatment" did to Mr. Lyle. It's not pretty and right now you seem stable. Going back into that festering hell won't help matters and from what I saw, they'll have you in meetings till dawn just for the accusations against Raines. Plus what are you going to do about that headache you've got? Shoot someone?" Geoff reasoned softly. He had come to respect and like Parker.

"If they figure out the treatment worked on you, Parker you know what will happen. And if they assume it didn't but did have an effect on Lyle, they'll want to know why. I want to convince you to leave with me—permanently. I know how the Tower thinks. They will detain you much longer than a day to get answers. Returning could mean a death sentence—Raines isn't without influence inside the Triumvirate. Tell your assistant that you're leaving for a few hours to gather your thoughts, exit plan, whatever and give me the time I need to speak with you. There are some details you still need to know about this "Therapy"."

"You're forgetting about the Agency, Jarod. Your logic sounds good but that decision is worse than Jonas trying to protect you from her! The Powers That Be are not going to let this go. She's just effectively removed the current chairman of an overly protected Asset. Doesn't matter if we neglect to give them all the details, the other team will pass that tidbit over. This goes beyond career suicide and strays directly into simple suicide. We've already told her far more than I'm sure anyone intended for her to know. This delay will start sending up red flags not only in the Centre but with the Agency as well."

"I will deal with the Agency. Jonas, Barney, start taking the equipment to the van. Leave the weapons here for now. Geoff put that sling back on and pretend to be helping them load the van. Start mingling with that crowd out there. Find out how long they plan on hanging around and where they are going," Jarod ordered crisply. Their logical arguments did little but showcase the problem without providing a solution. He needed some time to think and time was quickly running out.


	34. Let's go!

**A/N: **Thank you very much for the reviews! They really do make a difference.

**Mission Impossible**

**(Chapter 34 - ****Getting away)  
**

_**Trader's Inn  
**__**Blue Cove, DE**_

"Okay Genius, what is it that's so important? You better talk fast because your exit is closing fast."

Feeling emboldened and wanting to test Modesty's theory about control, Jarod decided another small test would give him the answer he was seeking and possibly explain what Parker had planned on doing once he was out of her life. "Would you let them take me back to the Centre?"

Without pause Parker shot back her blunt rejoinder, "No. I would shoot you in the head myself. Quit playing games Jarod. What else is there to this nightmare?"

"Then do this: Point your 9mm at me. I know it sounds strange but instead of arguing about it, just do it, like you have so many times before."

Modesty narrowed her eyes and then looked at Miss Parker curiously. She agreed with Jarod that this display could tell them a great deal about the contingency plan built into the therapy.

Parker looked from Jarod to Modesty and back again. Then slowly she retrieved her weapon from the table, primed it for firing and then raised it. However her hand started to quiver and the headache that had receded to a background nuisance became a brain-splitting, raging migraine. Quickly, she dropped her gun-hand while bringing her free hand to her suddenly sweaty forehead. In a panting voice she asked, "What the hell is going on?"

"Do you need any further proof that you are her spotter? You're the one who tapped into the release trigger."

Ignoring Modesty's comment but speaking to both women, Jarod stepped in close to Parker and said with barely controlled rage, "This is what _they_ did to you! These are the reactions _they_ were looking for! This constant experimentation in the disguise of science has more affects on your actions than we're aware of and you want to _return_?! You think you're just going to stroll back into your life – into your familiar prision as if nothing has happened, nothing has changed?! Well let me simplify these facts for you: You are the most important person in my world and short of shooting me in the head, you're not going back. That option is off the table because you mean too damn much to me!"

During this speech the 3 men had returned and quickly took in Jarod's rarely seen rage and desperation as he spoke to Parker. Any illusions of leaving her behind to be collected by the Centre were quashed immediately.

Without turning around Jarod asked, "Jonas, do we have a suitcase or bag large enough to conceal her?"

"Yeah, we do. I'll go out and get it."

"No, I'll do it," Barney replied. "If your seen carrying the case in and out of the room too many times, it might raise a red flag with our observant busybodies outside."

When the door shut behind him, Jonas turned to Jarod excitedly. "Okay, I figure I know what your opinion of me is right now but I have an idea, and if you still have a shred of trust in me and are willing to listen."

Jonas waited only a beat to continue, "You need to remain concealed. Parker practically said it outright. Let's keep to the plan, we leave the area with you and Geoff concealed in the cubby hole. Leave me here with Miss Parker. We can give her some knock-out juice, curl her up in the steamer trunk and I place the trunk in the back seat of the car you drove up in. If for some reason the Centre, a nosy cop whatever, spots the van they can search it. If they find you and Geoff, you have a good chance of getting away. By the time the alarm is raised, they will be looking for signs of Miss Parker. I'll head out in the opposite direction. That way we minimize the chance of all of us getting captured. Worst case scenario, if I'm caught, I'll tell them I was planning on doing some horrific things to her and that she was my prisoner. Parker returns to the Centre with little to explain. I'm hoping you'll bust me out of jail before I'm convicted," Jonas concluded with a weak smile.

"I'll throw away the key myself, dumbass!" Parker replied with some anger. The headache mercifully wasn't getting any more severe but it hadn't eased up from the intensity when she pointed her weapon at Jarod. Parker was feeling distinctly Pavlovian and this wasn't sitting well with her in any way. "That's a crappy plan, Brutus. You're no better than Broots—with ideas." Parker said with a disgusted grunt.

"No, the plan isn't too bad but some of the details need work. If the Centre did find her in your trunk, unconscious, they wouldn't bother with the police, her sweepers would probably take you somewhere secluded and execute you on the spot. Parker, I need you to curl up in the steamer trunk—wide awake. Jonas I need you to take the trunk with Parker in it out to the van."

"My legs work just fine. I'll walk to the van under my own steam, thank you."

Barney flung open the door holding one end of the steamer trunk with Geoff holding up the other end. Together they brought in the trunk, kick closed the door and proceeded to set it upright in the middle of the floor.

"We can't risk the tourists outside getting a look at you. With the way today has been going, all we need is for one of them to snap a picture," Jonas replied quickly, wondering if the Broots comment was as bad an insult as he was thinking.

"Precisely, Barney, let's repack the weapons case. I want you to take it out to the van and put it in the trunk.."

Barney raised his eyebrows, "Don't worry it's almost as big as the steamer trunk. It won't be much of an act." He turned and started retuning the heavy ordnance to their place in the trunk.

"Jonas I need you to go with him. Chat him up as if you're distracted and act as if the trunk is empty. Parker's much lighter than Thackery so it should be much easier. Once you're in the privacy of the van, let Parker out and the two of you load the trunk with computer equipment. Get Parker into the concealed area of the van and leave the trunk there. Geoff, while they're doing that, put on one of your disguises because you'll be riding shotgun with Barney in the van. If any Centre sweepers stop us, I don't want you easily recognized.

"Okay, Modesty, time for your wig and attitude. You'll ride with Jonas. Where is the bag with your outfits?" Jarod asked pointedly.

"It's over there on the chair," she pointed to the other side of the room.

Jarod nodded with a small smile, "Excellent. Do you still have all the necessary paperwork? Good. Hold on to them in case you get stopped."

The team sprang into action, Geoff opened his messenger bag and began applying make-up that obscured and then altered his features. Modesty opened a large bag and took out a blonde wig, carefully running a comb through the curls. Next she took out a small case and rushing into the bathroom, she began to put in the colored contacts. Parker could only watch a part of the activity since her headache almost took complete control of her thinking. Jarod slipped his arm around Parker's waist and led her into the adjoining room where they could speak privately.

"I know this is going to be difficult but I need you to try and trust me. With this headache you can barely function. Tell me what the release trigger is and I'll do whatever it is to alleviate the pain."

Parker was surprised and looked over at him with a mixture of uncertainty and vulnerability. Jarod admitting his feelings for her didn't go unnoticed but this headache was different from the others and making it more difficult for her to think than usual. Parker closed her eyes and decided to trust the voices. They hadn't been wrong in anything but so far they remained stubbornly quiet. Parker tried hard to think but the pain kept blocking her efforts. Then she vaguely remembered her own vow to go a different route with Jarod. Holding on to that resolve she sighed deeply and remained silent.

Jarod saw her reaction and was immediately disappointed. He knew her past and all the violations of trust, including his own recent perfidy, that had been heaped upon her but somehow he still wanted to think that her feelings for him would allow this measure of trust. "I understand. I'm pushing you too far, too soon. What we can do is curl you up in the trunk as quickly as possible. Do you think you can stand on your feet for about an hour in your present condition?"

Parker knew he didn't understand so she took a deep breath and expressed her "yes" by nodding her head causing her to grimace and murmur in pain. Her efforts this time didn't go for naught. Jarod acted the way she anticipated.

"Be careful. Do the painkillers help at all?" he asked as stepped next to her with a concerned expression. That was the only opening she needed. Parker looked at her lover and quickly embraced him. Jarod's arms automatically encircled her and then he lightly tightened his grip as he held her closer. Suddenly in very light drams the headache began to fade. Wanting to reveal that she had given her trust, Parker sighed deeply and allowed a grateful moan to escape her lips.

"Hey, I'll get more of Jonas pills and see if that will give you any measure of relief," Jarod said softly.

Parker leaned away from him and smiled in honest gratitude. "Could you squeeze a little tighter? That was far too gentle."

Jarod stopped and stared at her in disbelief. "That's what has been getting rid of your headaches? I-I started doing that…"

"To irritate me? Yeah, I know. But fortunately there was a very pleasant side-effect."

Jarod released her as he thought back to when he first started hugging Parker. "I can do that every hour if you need. This therapy is mind boggling. How were you ever to know about this unless you stumbled on it?" Then without preamble Jarod embraced her tightly until Parker began lightly running her fingers through his hair and he added a kiss along with it before releasing her again. "Now we have to get you out of here. I'm not only being selfish. You see why I'm so concerned?"

"I'm not that big a moron, Jarod. You're right. If they ever found out their little scheme worked on me and Lyle, I doubt I would ever leave the place. And since your Madame Freud figured this out, then it won't take Sydney long either—they were becoming quite chummy. And let's not forget that Lyle must have a, what do you call it – spotter as well."

Jarod sighed with a frown, "Yes. Heaven knows what his spotter will do once she realizes that Raines is no longer in a position to relieve her of duty." Then with a sudden grin, he added, "I never said you were a moron. Now you're as much a pretender as I am."

"Wait a second there, tiger. I'm still the same as I ever was. I didn't have to endure Sydney's training like you did."

"Don't worry. I'll be there for you and if you want, I can think of numerous ways to expand on your pretender talent. I have a few ideas on how to explore those depths when you're ready.

"I need better assurances than that," Parker stated with a frown. Her headache was completely gone but her mind was revving at its now usual high rate only without the pain.

"Later, we've run out of time. I have a warm, secluded island in mind where we can talk this through without any teams, timelines or impending sweepers to interrupt us."

Back inside the adjoining room, the team had finished following Jarod's instructions. All they were waiting for was Parker. When she walked through the door with Jarod, everyone knew he had used the release trigger.

"I hadn't planned on leaving with you this way but if this is the worst my plans will be going awry, then we're doing pretty good."

It took only a minute for Parker to curl up inside the steamer trunk. "I'm an idiot for doing this," Parker murmured. Jarod handed her Modesty's clothing bundle. "You have a bottle of whiskey you want me to hold for you as well?" she asked with biting sarcasm. Geoff laughed appreciatively as Jarod began closing the trunk.

Jarod gently pushed the halves of the trunk together until the edges met and Barney was able to close it securely. "There are airholes along the rivets so you should have no problem breathing," Barney said to the trunk.

"Hurry up!" came the muffled reply.

"You already planned on taking her with us?" Jonas suddenly asked with a touch of surprise in his voice.

"Yes, after you interrupted our weekend, I realized that we needed some quality time together. As usual the Centre threw in a curve ball that I wasn't expecting. This whole business with her being the subject of the experiment threw me. They've used her as a test subject before but never to this extent but then her father had been alive to protect her. With that impediment gone, it appears Raines couldn't restrain himself. Let's not keep the lady waiting."

Jonas picked up the trunk gingerly and walked effortlessly to the door. "Geez, Parker, eat a sandwich." With that he walked out of the door.

"Jarod, I don't understand. If the prior Chairman protected his daughter from the Centre's experiments, why didn't he protect his _son_, her twin?" Modesty asked in confusion.

"The reasons are too convoluted to explain but suffice it to say that Parker was a living conceit to her father. He had plans for her—plans that seem to be coming to fruition despite his death. Unfortunately, Lyle had more potential to become an impediament once he reached adulthood. He meant nothing to anyone except his mother…and Parker. But by the time Parker found out she had a twin, he was what you see now, what Raines had created—a murderous sociopath."

Jarod became quiet as he thought through the revisions in his plan. Geoff took the opportunity during the short pause to report on his findings. "You won't believe this one, Jarod. The tourists outside will be leaving Blue Cove in a couple minutes. The driver is stressed out trying to corral all his charges together. Get this: they are on a mystery tour of the area and it includes a brief stop at the Centre. Only the outskirts mind you and no pictures are allowed. Apparently some local writer made a vague reference to the complex in a mediocre crime novel that was featured on some daytime talk show, instantly making it popular and a number one best seller. The elderly folks out there are titillated at the thought of seeing the place."

"We're cutting it close, so I'll make this brief. Modesty we'll need you and Jonas to create a small diversion and then meet at rendezvous point B at 2300 hours," Jarod explained as he retrieved two "burner" cell phones from his pack. "Dial 221 for the programmed number to the other phone. You don't need to say anything for us to know that you're in trouble. If possible, leave the phone on so the other can track you.

"Geoff, take the tracker strip from Parker's 9mm and see if you can plant it on the bus. At best, if the Centre starts searching for Parker using the tracker, it will look as though she is on her way back to the office. At the very least it will force Centre Security to waste time hunting the thing down to confirm—giving us the needed time to put some distance between us and them. Modesty, I need you to take the shortest route out of Deleware. Setting up roadblocks beyond the state is problematic but that's not to say they might not try it. That's why rendezvous A is out."

A small beeping noise came from Jarod's phone. "We're out of time. Let's get going. Modesty, you and Jonas are first."

_**The Centre  
**__**Blue Cove, DE**_

"Director Williams, how nice of you to come down and see to things while Director Parker is out of the office," Remy drawled sarcastically. Raines had been successfully removed from his office with a minimum of fuss. For one, Willie, Raines' head sweeper was out of town. Then much to Remy's consternation, Lyle had proved to be surprisingly helpful. He had gained access to the Chairman without the old man's sweepers suspecting a thing. By the time "back-up" arrived and was able to get through to the Chairman's inner sanctum, they found one battered CEO, bound, gagged, bleeding and missing several large swatches of skin and another sweating profusely holding a bloody knife and speaking adamantly to himself. Only 3 of Raines' sweepers, who were oblivious to what was going on inside the office, had to be "neutralized" during the operation—more like euthanized in Remy's estimation. Those fellas acted like rabid dogs that hadn't eaten in a week.

"Where is Miss Parker? Who in the hell gave you the authorization to arrest the Chairman and where is he!? There is nothing but chaos and confusion erupting in the Tower. It's a minor miracle that the Triumvirate hasn't been informed yet, but that will be short lived."

"Miss Parker advised us to "back-up" Director Lyle in his arrest of the Chairman. I'm just a lowly Assistant Director but the evidence Mr. Lyle has against the Chairman appears to be very damning. Currently, the Chairman is in the Renewal Wing being watched over by Dr. Cox, who is getting things prepared so he can start to re-skin the Chairman. Meanwhile, we are attempting to find the good doctor Thackery who seems to have slipped out for a long walk. We should have this all wrapped up by the time Miss Parker returns."

"Find Miss Parker immediately and bring her to the Tower forthwith. If she hasn't returned to the Centre within the hour, I will issue a Schedule 7 for her and there will be a T-board," Director Williams practically yelled. "Oh, and Esperanze, that wasn't a suggestion, it's an order!"

Remy watched with quiet enmity as the imperious director left Parker's office. He had never liked the director and it irked him that Miss Parker's absence had activated Williams' opportunistic ambition. According to Trace, Miss Parker was still at some location on the outskirts of Blue Cove, taking her sweet time getting back to the Centre. Shaking his head and breathing a deep sigh of frustration, Remy picked up the phone and dispatched a team of level 1 sweepers to meet Parker and inform her that her presence was urgently needed back at the Centre. Inexplicably, Remy started to smile. It would be nice being the Assistant Chairman. Now that was a title he had never anticipated holding.

_**Trader's Inn  
**__**Blue Cove, DE**_

Once inside the van, Jonas quickly opened the trunk and gingerly helped Parker unfold herself free from its confines. Barney noted the tension between Jonas and Parker. He paused watching them for a few seconds before deciding they both were adult enough to work this out on their own and immediately left the van. Without any conversation, the two began repacking the steamer trunk with computer equipment. Parker was placing the finishing touches on the trunk as she hung the dresses inside—partially concealing the equipment.

"Jarod has been good to me and I wanted to look out for him, pay him back in some measure. What I did was wrong and I apologize. Should've trusted him," Jonas said in a quiet but clear voice. His back was to Parker as he said this. Without saying anything further, he slid open the concealed portion of the van and waited for Parker to step inside. Before closing it, Parker nodded slightly to him. Jones left the van and returned to the motel room.

The ruckus caught the tourists off guard. A woman's shrill voice could be heard clearly over the group's collective chatter. "W-where is the trunk? You idiot! All my clothes are in there! You did what?" A muscular, harried man rushed out of a nearby room and gestured to the man with the baseball cap pulled low on his head.

"Hey, that trunk I brought off you? I need to get it back, I put in your van."

Geoff stuck the tracker slip on the bottom of a suitcase he was helping the tour bus driver maneuver into the luggage compartment. After his half-hearted assistance, he turned to the other man and asked, "What's it doing in my van?"

Almost in answer to his question, the shrill female voice called out, "Get my things back now! You're such a moron! My mother warned me!"

Geoff chuckled and replied, "Nevermind, I wouldn't be able to think straight with that in my ear either." Geoff walked over to the van. With a great deal of difficulty, they muscled the trunk, Geoff still one-handed to the edge of the van. Once all eyes were on Jonas, Geoff quickly eased along the side of the van and ducked inside to the concealed conmpartment to wait. The trunk was easily removed by Jonas who pretended it was extremely heavy for him as he carried it over to the car. Meanwhile a bleach-blonde woman stepped outside wearing a very tight sweater and an attitude.

"Open it now! I want to make sure all my things are in there! Heaven knows what's missing since you put it in there!" The wind caught her scarf, blowing it free from her loose grasp and into the mist of the tourists, creating a general distraction. She bent over low in her tight pants to retrieve the scarf, drawing everyone's attention.

"Lower your voice! They'll hear you!" Jonas said with a hint of anxiety.

"Too late for that. I haven't been in the back of the van for a bit, check your things quick because we're leaving," Jarod replied brusquely as he walked towards them from the van.

"Sorry Buddy. She's been yelling at me since sunrise."

"Well, at least she has some pluses you can console yourself with," Jarod said with a smirk and grinning at the tour bus driver. The driver smirked in response while shaking his head in disgust though he had to appreciate the lady's attributes. Jonas opened the trunk of the car and allowed the shrewish woman to examine her belongings.

"Yeah it looks like it's all here. Just pay more attention to what you're doing, Pookie. You know mama gets upset when you lose things," she said in a saccharine-sweet voice.

"Sorry, Baby. We're all good. Thanks for understanding Mister," Jonas said to Jarod as he got into the driver's seat next to the woman and slowly took off. Her loudly running commentary about the countryside could be heard over the sound of the engine.

Jarod smirked again, then turned and before getting into the back of the van, he knocked on the side, hopped in and the vehicle slowly pulled out of the parking lot as the tourists began loading into the bus.

_**Hwy 95  
**__**Delaware Turnpike, DE**_

The older 4-door sedan cruised leisurely on the road tucked securely in a small clutch of vehicles on the highway. Jonas drove ubiquitously never attracting attention and expertly blending in with traffic. Therefore when he noticed the blacked-out SUVs speeding past him, Jonas knew exactly what was about to occur. He was about to suddenly swerve in front of a pickup truck when Modesty put a hand on his arm. Jonas continued cruising when the traffic in front of him began to slow unexpectedly. Jonas was prepared so he slowed appropriately drawing an angry honking from the vehicle behind him. The Centre's sweepers had quickly set up the roadblock and were setting up the wooden barriers to add an official appearance to their blockade. Jonas and Modesty looked at each other and silently settled in to wait in the long line for their turn through the choke point.


End file.
